You Gotta Have Hope
by Missy Dawn 94
Summary: "You gotta have hope. If you don't, what are you really living for?" This is a short AU centering around Daryl, Carol, and their struggle as Daryl deals with the fact that it's unlikely he'll ever be able to give her the one thing he thinks that she wants and deserves most.
1. Chapter 1

**This is going to be a short little fic. A few chapters at most. Just an idea I had that wouldn't get out of my head. I hope some of you e** **njoy it, and feel free to let me know what you think.**

Thirty-three year old Daryl Dixon languidly made his way to his old, beat up truck one humid Friday evening. He'd just clocked out of work and saying he was exhausted would have been the understatement of the century. He felt like death run over this evening. Nothing more than the walking damn dead himself. He ached from his neck all the way down to the tips of his toes.

Daryl's job was high in physical demand. He worked for a construction company, primarily dealing with roofing. That meant most of his days were spent working outside in the sweltering Georgia heat, lugging ninety-pound shingles up and down a ladder, repeatedly.

Not that he minded. He was happy having a job where he had to be hands on. Daryl had always preferred manual labor. He'd never been good at intellectual types of things. As a kid he'd always been forced to attend summer school in order to advance to the next grade. Even then, he felt like most teachers just bumped him on up after stealing a few weeks of his summer in order to not have to deal with a Dixon boy a second year in a row. When he got in high school and he was old enough to make the choice for himself, he'd simply stopped going altogether. Opting to get a job and fend for himself rather than be stuck in the hell hole of an existence that had been his home life.

But after almost twenty-years of jobs that primarily consisted of bending and lifting and hammering and ripping and carrying, all of that had started to take it's toll on his body. He was bone-weary and he felt every bit of his age, if not five or ten years older some days. His hands were calloused and his body scarred from various work related incidents over the years.

And some old scars that were not so work related. Scars he preferred to forget.

He wouldn't complain, though. Even if he was worn out, he was grateful for this job. It paid decent. Not great, but decent enough it allowed him to put a down payment on that small three-bedroom house he had on Maple Street. Decent enough it allowed him to put food on the table and pay his bills each month. Decent enough that it provided him with health insurance.

Decent enough that his wife always told him how proud she was of him for having it. How proud she was of the level of work he did and how much of himself he put into his job. Mostly, how proud she was of him for how hard he worked and how much he sacrificed for her, for them.

Honestly, her being proud of him was worth more to him than any paycheck ever would be. Than any house they could live in. Than any amount of health insurance anyone could offer.

She meant more to him than anything in this world.

He'd do anything for her. To know she was safe, to see her smile, to feel her arms wrapped around him at night.

Carol was his world. Plain and simple. And she had been for the past eleven years. She would be for the rest of his life, and beyond.

Having this job, busting his ass day in and day out, it was worth it all. Because it allowed him to give her all those things that seemed trivial in comparison to her overall importance to him.

But those seemingly trivial things, they were things she deserved. The house they lived in, the Jeep she drove, the food in their refrigerator that she used to make him supper ever night, even the health insurance that made sure she was able to stay as healthy as can be, they wouldn't be possible without this job.

So he'd keep doing what he was doing, without complaint or hesitation, to make sure she got the life she deserved.

And truthfully, he wished he was able to give her more. So damn much more.

Even if she was part of the reason he was feeling a little more exhausted than normal today.

 _***Around 3:00 a.m., Friday morning***_

 _Daryl was sleeping soundly, resting on his side, one arm underneath his pillow and the other covering his face. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a loud retching noise startled him awake. He shook his head and popped up in bed, blinkling rapidly in an attempt to adjust his eyes to the darkness. He scanned them to the spot on the bed next to him where his wife was laying when he'd fallen asleep. Now she was no longer there. The covers ruffled back, an indention still in her pillow, sheets still warm. His eyes flicked around the room and he noticed a faint light emitting from underneath the closed bathroom door. He propped himself up on his elbows. "Carol," He called out, his voice still husky with sleep."Ya alright?"_

 _She retched once more and a loud splash echoed the room as she emptied more contents from her gut into the toilet. She moaned as an unpleasant pain coiled in her belly and bile threatened to rise in her throat again. Reaching for a hand towel, she wiped her mouth before answering her husband. "In the bathroom," She cried out, eyes watering. It was an unfortunate reaction that seemed to occur any time she vomited. She wiped at the corner of her damp eyes and slowly peered up as the sound of the bathroom creaking open caught her attention._

 _Daryl stood in front of her, only clad in a black pair of boxer briefs. A pair he'd just pulled on. He'd fallen asleep in the nude, they both had after a passionate moment between them only three or four hours before. She'd been just fine then. Just as eager and lively as he, and after they were done she'd cuddled against his chest, tracing sensual, slow circles just below his navel as he drifted off to dreamland with her in his arms. Now she was huddle next to the toilet wearing her pink, terrycloth rob, looking ever bit as miserable as she did pitiful. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his palms, his feet drifting him closer into her space. He moved behind her, taking a seat on the edge of their white, porcelain tub. He began to massage the back of her neck._

 _She groaned as her stomach lurched. "Woke up feeling sick to my stomach. Tried to fight it off as long as I could and go back to sleep. Didn't work," She mumbled._

 _He continued rubbing the back of her neck tenderly. He stifled a yawn and blinked hard, fighting with himself not to pass out and fall backwards into the tub. "Prolly got what Carl and Judith had. Figured one of us would."_

 _Carl and Judith belonged to their friends, Rick and Lori. Rick was a sheriff and Lori was a stay at home mom. Carl was twelve years old and Judith was barely two._

 _Their friends had asked Carol if they could watch the kids while they went to some sort of charity event that the Sheriff's Department Rick worked at was holding. Carol readily agreed without even consulting Daryl on the matter. She adored Carl and Judith. Hell, she loved children in general. But those two kids had a special place in her heart. Truthfully, Daryl had grown quite fond of them himself, even if he wouldn't readily admit it._

 _Problem was, two hours into babysitting both kids started puking their guts out. Lori and Rick high-tailed it home, but the damage had been done by the time they got there. Carol had been working clean-up duty, and despite using so much Lysol their home smelled lemony fresh for days, Daryl had a feeling the bug those kids had was gonna hit their home sooner or later. That feeling only intensified when Rick and Lori came down with the same symptoms over the next two days._

 _"You're probably right," she weakly agreed. Her stomach knotted again and she lunged herself forward, wrapping her arms tightly around the base of the toilet it as she heaved._

 _"Sorry you feel bad. Wish it was me," he told her softly, moving his hand down to her back and circling it over the outside of her robe. And he meant what he said. Seeing her in pain, seeing her suffer in any way, it ripped at his heart. He'd rather be the one hugging the toilet right now. "Can I do anything for ya?"_

 _She grabbed the hand towel and wiped her mouth again before looking up at him. "Cup of water and mouth wash?" She asked with weary eyes._

 _"Mhm. On it," he replied, moving to stand. He bent down and kissed the top of her head. "Then I'm gonna start a hot shower and get you some Pepto." He paused before turning to walk off, realizing he wasn't the one in charge of purchases like that and finding himself unsure of whether or not they actually had any on hand. "Uhhh...we got some of that, don't we?"  
_

 _She forced a faint smile at her husband. "In the medicine cabinet. Grab the tablets, please."_

 _He nodded. "Be right back."_

 _()()()_

 _After washing her mouth out, downing the tablets, and soaking in a hot shower, Carol was finally comfortable enough to crawl back in bed and drift off to sleep. Daryl cradled her next to him, ready and willing to do anything she wanted or needed him to if she woke up sick again. He found he wasn't able to fall back asleep himself, and he'd been right next to her when she woke up again at 6, repeating the same process she'd gone through at 3._

 _W_ _hen it was over she actually tried to get dressed and go to work._

 _"Nu uh," Daryl insisted firmly as he gently pushed her back into bed. "You're calling in. Ya ain't going today."_

 _"I'll be fine," she tried to argue, her voice not conveying the enthusiasm she was trying to pull off. "It was just a little bug. I'm over it."_

 _"No you ain't. Ya were literally just hurling again. Ya can't work like that. For fuck's sake, ya work with food. You'll have the whole town sick." He chuckled._

 _She flitted her eyes down to their silky, queen comforter. "It might not be a bug..."_

 _"Nah?" He bit back a laugh at her seemingly feeble attempt to talk him into thinking it was a good idea for her to go work. "What the hell ya think it is then?"_

 _Her blue eyes met his, an almost terrified sort of hope hidden behind them. She gnawed nervously at her bottom lip. "It could be.."_

 _"Carol..." He cut her off, swiping a hand over his face when he realized how harsh his tone had been. "Don't. Please?" His voice dipped below a whisper and he could feel it threatening to crack. "Please...don't." He moved to sit beside her on the bed and pulled her into a tight embrace, her head fell on his shoulder and he rested his cheek on top of her head. "I love ya."_

 _"Love you, too," She choked out, and he could tell she was fighting back tears. "Thank you for taking care of me while I'm all pukey and gross."_

 _"Always gonna take care of ya." He kissed the top of her head again. "Ya need to rest today. Get over this bug quick as ya can. Stay home. Watch some of those Lifetime movies ya love. Sleep. Just focus on feeling better. I'll see if Maggie' can stop by and check on ya around lunch."_

 _"I know you will and you're right," she reluctantly agreed, tightening her grip around him. "But I'll be fine on my own. Maggie doesn't have to stop by."_

 _"Yeah? Well, she ain't gonna mind and I'd feel better if she did." He let go of her reached over her to where her night stand was. She always kept a note pad there. Jotting down thing's she'd think of they needed for the house. Planning short vacations. Getting the grocery list ready. Whatever she was thinking at the moment, she jotted it down so she wouldn't let it slip her mind. He retrieved her note pad and pen and handed them to her. "I'm gonna get ready for work. Make me a list of anything ya think you'll need. I'll stop by the store and pick it up on my way home." He scratched at his head, not exactly sure what sort of things she might need. She was usually the one that took care of him while he was sick. "Just, uh, whatever ya think ya might be able to eat, stuff like that."_

 _()()()_

Daryl had called her on his lunch break to check up on her, and he had to admit, the overall tone in her voice sounded much more chipper than it had this morning. She told him she hadn't had another episode since he left this morning and that she'd been taking it easy today, knowing he'd scold her if she said anything less.

Carol wasn't the type to stay holed up in bed all day. Even sick. Cleaning, cooking, reading, knitting, making stained-glass, tending to her plants, she was the kinda person who always had to be doing something.

But she promised him on the phone that today was one of the rare occasions she'd actually taken a day off and done nothing at all. Other than focus on feeling better, just like he'd wanted her to do. Maggie had still been at their place when he called and he could hear her yelling in the background to corroborate Carol's story. He'd chuckled at that and let Carol go so he could finish his lunch.

He pulled the door of his old Ford open and climbed in the drive's seat of his truck, eager to get home. He wanted to crawl in bed next to Carol and relax some himself. Three hours of sleep just wasn't sufficient enough to get through a work day like his.

He moved the key into the ignition, having every intention of driving himself home as soon as he slipped the truck into drive. "Shit," he mumbled to himself before moving the truck out of park. He'd almost forgotten that list he'd told Carol to make him before he left for work. Good thing he wound up remembering. He slipped his left hand off of the steering wheel and into the pocket of his tan cargo pants to retrieve the folded slip of paper. He slowly unfolded the now wrinkled slip of paper and scanned his eyes over the few items she'd jotted down in her impeccable cursive manuscript that put his chicken scratch to shame. He began to quietly read them off to himself, one by one. "Ginger Ale or Sprite, chicken broth, chicken noodle or veggie soup, bananas, garlic," he paused as he reached the last item and his own voice was troubled when he finally read the words aloud, "EPT?"

He stared blankly at the last word for a moment before crumbling the piece of paper into a ball and throwing it at the other end of the truck in a fit of anger. Both hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white and he let his head fall on the horn. A loud honk filled the parking lot, but the sound fell deaf on Daryl's ears. He was too preoccupied by the sharp pain in his gut. It was like a hot knife was being jabbed into him, twisted and turned.

Why the hell had she put that on there?

She knew better.

He'd known that was what she was thinking earlier. When she tried to suggest it could be something else. And he'd told her not to. Almost begged her to stop. But she'd fucking put it on there anyway.

It wasn't that he was angry at her for thinking it. It wasn't that he didn't want a baby. It was the simple fact that they both knew how that test was gonna turn out and he knew that the result was going to crush her. It always did. A little more each time.

See, to understand what he was feeling right now you'd have to understand their story. And the start of that story began a little over 11 ears ago.

He'd met Carol when he was only 22 years old. He was in bad way back then. In a terrible place emotionally and financially.

Merle, his older brother, the only person he'd had in his life back then, he'd just been thrown into prison. Armed robbery and attempted murder were the charges. Except Merle didn't do the crime. And sure, most criminals probably claimed their innocence from the rooftops, probably swore up and down by it, but Merle truthfully hadn't committed the actual crime. That had been the guy he was running with. Merle hadn't even been in the actual bank where the robbery and shooting occurred. Just waiting out by the curb in the get-away car.

The guy promised Merle ten percent of whatever he stole and Merle had agreed, thinking it was easy cash. An in and out job. He hadn't known the dumbass he was with was gonna shoot somebody. Let alone put a bullet into a single mama of five kids.

Hell, Merle hadn't even thought they'd get caught. That was half of his brother's problem, dumbass never thought about nothing but himself.

In the eyes of the law, it didn't matter that Merle didn't pull the trigger or commit the actual robbery, he'd been charged as an accessory and he'd had the books thrown at him after refusing to snitch on his partner in crime.

And Merle's idiotic decision had a ripple effect on Daryl's overall life. Not only had he lost his brother, the only person he'd ever really had that he could somewhat depend on, he also ended up losing his job because of it and his place to stay.

They'd been living in a small town and news traveled fast through the grape vine. Once people found out what Merle had been a part of, no one wanted Daryl around. No one would give him a chance, most people wouldn't even look at him twice.

He'd skipped town after that with what little bit of money he had left to his name, no real destination in mind. He'd driven until hunger took over, pulling off to the side when he found some roach motel out in the sticks with a diner next to it. He booked a room at the motel, feeling drained and deciding he was done traveling for the day. A room that was so cheap it almost scared him to stay in it overnight. After, he'd walked next door to that small diner to grab a bite to eat.

 _****Roughly11 years ago****_

 _Daryl walked into the diner, eyes trained on the tile floor as he slipped himself into a pale, yellow booth. He grabbed a menu that was sitting in a spice rack at the end of the booth and started thumbing though it._

 _"Hi there. What can I get you to drink?" A sweet female voice asked._

 _"Coffee," he muttered, not bothering to look away from his menu and up towards the pleasant sounding voice that had spoken to him._

 _The waitress jotted the coffee down and hovered next to him. "Anything else? Do you know what you want yet? If you aren't sure, I'd recommend our Pattie melt."_

 _"Yeah. Whatever," he muttered, still not bothering to look up at her._

 _The waitress arched a brow, pausing her hand, the tip of her pen centimeters above the pad. "So...you do want a Pattie melt?"_

 _"Said whatever," he growled. "Pattie melt's fine. Just take my order and leave me be." He heard her clear her throat and after a moment, he assumed she was jotting his order down, she'd told him, "Be right back with that, sir."_

 _He'd pushed the menu to the side and folded his arms on top of the table, resting his head atop them. His eyes darted around the diner, noticing it was completely empty other than him and whoever the hell was working here. That was just fine and dandy, because the mood he was in wasn't one where he was up for hearing much noise and racket from other people. He just wanted to get his belly full and go pass the fuck out in that shitty motel. Maybe he'd find a liquor store when he left here and help himself along with that passing out part, sleep hadn't been coming easy for him these days._

 _Ten minutes later the waitress had returned. "Order's ready," she informed him. First slipping his cup of coffee in front of him and then the plate with his Pattie melt. He hadn't asked for fries, but the plate was slap loaded down with them._

 _Daryl still hadn't bothered looking at the woman, only catching a glimpse of the pale blue outfit she had on out of his peripherals. He didn't bother to tell her thank you and he'd made up his mind to not lift his head and dig in until she was gone. He wasn't sure why he was being such a dick to her, she hadn't done anything to him, but people had treated him like shit ever since things went down with Merle, and he was over being nice. Especially to someone he was likely to never see again._

 _He was surprised when, instead of leaving, he caught a glimpse of her slipping into the seat in front of him._

 _"I don't know you and I don't what's wrong," she said softly, reaching out and placing a comforting hand over his forearm. "But whatever it is, it'll get better. It won't always be like this." She pulled her arm away once she felt him tense and placed her hands in her lap._

 _"The hell do you know about it," he snapped, popping his head up, finally seeing this woman for the first time. This woman with ivory skin, long, auburn curls that were pulled back into a ponytail, and shimmering blue eyes that bore an unfamiliar kindness in them. He was struck by how beautiful she was and he regretted his tone now that he was actually looking at her. Acknowledging her presence as a person. She'd done nothing to him. She hadn't deserved to be talked to the way he had spoken to her. But she hadn't flinched, she hadn't backed away, she sat there in front of him, staring deep into his eyes, and he almost thought that her gaze would be able to penetrate all the way to his soul._

 _"I know because I've been there," she told him tenderly. "I once reached a point in my life when I lost everything. EVERYTHING," she repeated for emphasis. "I had nothing. I thought I was nothing. I was angry and sad and I had no where to turn. No one to run to. No money. No job. No...," She trailed off and her voice cracked. She paused to steady it. "That part doesn't matter. What does matter is that it got better. You just...you gotta have hope. If you don't, what are you really living for?"_

 _"Don't know that I am," he muttered, propping his elbows up and resting his head in his hands. "Hey, uh, sorry I yelled at ya and acted like a dick. Been a shitty few weeks for me. But that ain't your fault."_

 _"No...it's not," she agreed. "But you're human. We all make mistakes."_

 _"Yeah..sometimes ones we_ _can't come back from," he muttered ruefully, feeling anger at Merle for his poor choices. For ruining his life. For ruining Daryl's and leaving him alone._

 _"You can always come back. Whatever you did...you can always come back from it. Make it right."_

 _"What about when it's something someone else did?"_

 _She pursed her lips. "Then that's not on you," she simply said. "Take it from someone who spent far too long blaming herself for someone else's actions and issues, what other people do isn't on you." She glanced up at the clock and then around the diner, which was still empty. "I get off in fifteen minutes, but it doesn't look like anyone's coming in between now and then. Would you like me to keep you company while you eat? Sometimes, well, sometimes I think you just need somebody to talk to. Somebody to listen. Even if you don't wanna say anything...sometimes it's just nice to have someone there."_

 _Daryl picked up a French Fry and fiddled it between his fingers. "You ain't gonna get in trouble, are you?"_

 _She shook her head. "It'll be fine. The manager's a friend of mine. Besides, customer satisfaction is our top priority," she grinned._

 _Her smile was radiant, intoxicating even, and it caused a reaction in him he hadn't experienced in far too long. His stomach flip flopped and the corner of his lip twitched into a half grin._

 _"I'm Carol, by the way," she extender her hand to him. "Figure if I'm gonna keep sitting with you, you may as well know my name."_

 _He gave her a firm shake and nodded. "Daryl."_

 _"That's cute," she grinned again._

 _His brows crinkled. "What? My name?"_

 _She shook her head and giggled. "No, our names. They kinda rhyme."_

 _"Guess they do." He let out a low chuckle and it surprised him so much that he flinched a bit at the sound of his own laugh filling his ears. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd heard his own laugh._

 _***End of Flashback***_


	2. Chapter 2

Daryl slowly lifted his head from his steering wheel, relinquishing the death grip his knuckles had placed at the 9 and 3 o'clock positions. He blew out a heavy breath and swiped his hand through his shaggy hair, then stretched himself over the length of his seat, reaching down into the floorboard of the passenger's side so he could grab the crumpled piece of paper he'd thrown in his frustration. He carefully smoothed out the wadded paper, then re-read the items once again. His hand quivered when his eyes landed on the word EPT and he had to bite his bottom lip in an effort to calm his nerves.

Gingerly, once he had gathered his bearings, he began to fold the paper into a square and slide it back into his pocket. Reaching forward, he slid the truck in drive and began to make his way down the road to the nearest grocery store. He'd buy the test, just like Carol asked him to. As much as he didn't want to, as much as he knew the result was going to break them both all over again, he'd buy the stupid damn test. He'd buy it because she'd asked him to and he'd do anything for her. He'd buy it because he knew it was important to her.

No matter what the doctors said, regardless of how many negative tests they'd taken in the past, despite the lengths they'd gone to conceive a child and failed at, time and time again, Carol still firmly clung to the hope that one day they'd get that positive result they both so desperately wanted. A positive they'd both endlessly hoped and prayed for over the years, to no avail. She truly believed that one day, when they least expected it, they'd get that baby of theirs.

It's why she rushed to get a test every single time her period was even a day late, any time she felt a hint of nausea or more tired than normal, whenever a smell seemed to hit her more intensely than usual, or when she craved some kinda weird snack, she'd insist that _this_ could be it. That _this_ could finally be what they'd been waiting for. Her eyes would light up like lights on a Christmas tree and she'd flash him her most optimistic smile and she'd say, "you never know, this could be it."

And time and time again one of them would pick up a test. Most times she'd take it when he was there, though there had been a few instances in the beginning she'd taken them without him. And time and time again all those hopes and dreams of theirs would be dashed. And he'd be left holding her in his arms as she lamented the fact that they didn't get that positive this time, but she'd always choke out, "maybe next time." He'd cling tighter to her when those words left her mouth, pushing back a sob of his own while simultaneously pushing back feelings of anger and guilt, pushing back the urge to tell her he wished they could stop going through this and accept that facts were facts. They couldn't change them, no matter how much hoping and praying they did.

Because Daryl himself had come to accept that a long time ago. After they'd literally done everything they were able to do, he'd accepted that this just wasn't going to happen for them. The day he'd accepted it he swore he could feel his own heart shattering to pieces. Knowing there wasn't ever gonna a baby growing inside the woman he loved that was half him and half her. Knowing he couldn't give her, this woman that meant more to him than anything in the world, this woman he'd do anything for, go to the ends of the Earth for if he had to, knowing that he couldn't give her something as simple as the child they both wanted, the child _she_ deserved. That was something that, as a man, as her husband, he was supposed to be able to do. He'd never felt more useless, more undeserving, than he had when he reached that realization.

But as much as it pained him to come to grips with that, at least he was able to stop clinging to some false sense of security that having a child would be their reality one day. At least he didn't have to feel the excitement bubbling in his chest each time she took a test, thinking today was gonna be the day their lives changed forever. Now he knew what those tests were going to say each time she felt the notion to take one. And even though it still hurt like fuck to see that negative, to see what it did to Carol, there was no bubble to burst on his end. No rug being blindly swept out from underneath him.

And as much as he wished Carol would come to that realization herself, he couldn't ever ask her to give up. He couldn't outright tell her that she was wasting their time, their energy, and their money. Because he couldn't hurt her like that. Life had hurt her enough. He wouldn't steal that tiny shred of hope from her, as much as it hurt him, he'd rather suffer than snuff that light out for her. Hope was what Carol had kept Carol going at the darkest point in her life, it was what she lived her life by, it was her hope that brought him out of his own darkness, that brought him to the life he had with her today. And he couldn't ever be responsible for taking away that part of her, it was the part of her that he fell in love with in the first place all those years ago.

 _***Their first meeting at the diner, roughly 11 years ago***_

 _Daryl didn't know why he'd been okay with Carol staying to sit with him, especially considering how shitty he'd been acting when she first took his order, but when she asked him if he wanted her to keep him company he'd found himself rather eager for her to stay right where she was sitting, in that seat right in front of him._

 _Maybe it was because she was a beautiful girl and he just wanted the chance to look at her a little longer, maybe it was because she was the first person in so many weeks who'd actually looked at and spoken to him like he was a normal human-being, instead of a deplorable piece of shit for being Merle Dixon's younger brother, maybe it was even because he was so damn starved for human contact at that point that he just needed some sort of socialization, and she was the first person who offered him any._

 _But whatever stemmed his eagerness to have her join him, he quickly found himself thankful that this particular girl was in front of him occupying his time._

 _They stayed in that booth talking for so long that he lost track of time. Daylight had changed to dark and they were still sitting there across from each other, jabbering one another's heads off._

 _There had even been a bit of flirty banter shared between the two as they talked. A few shared glances out of the corner of each other's eyes. Some light toughing on Carol's part, nothing serious, just gentle brushes against his arm if he made her laugh, or the easy slide of her foot against his leg under the table, which may very well have been accidental._

 _When they got on the subject of music he was pleased when he found they actually had a lot in common in that area. Turns out they'd been at the same Guns and Roses concert in Atlanta two summers before, sitting only three rows apart._

 _They didn't hit on anything heavy that night, though. He didn't bring up Merle and she hadn't brought up anything meaningful from her past. In fact, all he really knew about the inner-workings of her life was that she worked at this diner, and had for the last six and a half years. All she knew about his was that he'd worked as a landscaper for about a year, until recently, and that he'd hit the road in search of a "change of scenery."_

 _He hadn't even told her his last name yet, nor had she told him hers. He'd been so fearful she would have heard about Merle and the armed robbery/attempted murder. He was terrified that she'd look at him differently once she knew, like everyone else had, so he worked hard to keep that part of his life under wraps._

 _Thankfully, she hadn't tried to dig deeper and find out what was wrong with him, even though she'd known from looking at him that he was going through something. She'd simply sat there with him talking about trivial, superficial sorts of things about themselves, providing him with a much need and very welcomed distraction for the night._

 _An older woman, probably in her mid fifties, approached their booth. She was a bit plump, with graying hair and a perm. She had a dish towel in hand and she nodded to Carol. "Closing time, honey. You and your new friend here gotta get outta here so I can clean up."_

 _Carol glanced to the woman, then out of the window beside her, then around the diner, which was empty, save for the three of them surrounding the booth. "Sorry Francine," she smiled at the older woman. "I guess I just lost track of time."_

 _"Yeah...I bet you did," the older woman let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "I'm ready to get home to Billy, so I need you and," she motioned to Daryl with her dish rag, "Romeo here to find another place to congregate."_

 _Carol felt her cheeks burn and she shot the woman a death glare, when she glanced back at Daryl his head was hanging down, eyes trained at the empty coffee cup on the yellow table, his cheeks were tinged pink. "Francine," she hissed._

 _"Oh, I'm just messing with you, Carol," she chuckled again. "But really, get your asses up outta this booth or I'm gonna make sure you get stuck with dish washing duty the next three weeks."_

 _She looked to Daryl, her cheeks still on fire. "I guess it's time to get home," she said, a hint of disappointment in her tone."_

 _Daryl looked up, his eyes showing their own tinge of disappointment at the fact that his moments with this woman, this woman who'd been a mere stranger to him only hours before, and in so many ways still was, were about to come to an abrupt end. "Guess so," he muttered, following her out._

 _They walked in silence outside. Daryl glanced up at the night sky, a few clouds were scattered about eclipsing the moon completely, but a handful of starts were still visible. They walked in tandem down the gravel drive that led up to the diner, the only sound that could be heard, aside from a few crickets singing, were the rocks crunching beneath their feet._

 _Once they reached the end of the path they both paused. The right would take Daryl back to his motel, his home for the night. The left would take Carol to the tiny parking lot where her run down car with the dent in the fender and the chipping paint was waiting for her._

 _Daryl turned to face her, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He was feeling jittery, likely an effect from the four cups of coffee he'd consumed while they were at the diner. "I just wanted to tell ya I really appreciated ya sitting with. Taking my mind off of things and all. It ah, it was the best night I've had in awhile."_

 _She smiled at him, that radiating, intoxicating smile that made his stomach do those unfamiliar little backflips. "We all need to take our mind off of things sometimes. And believe it or not, it was the best night I've had in long time myself. I hate it has to end."_

 _Daryl swayed back and forth on the balls of his feet, running his next move over in his mind. His eyes flicked to the ground, then to hers. "Maybe it don't have to end..."_

 _She looked at him curiously and raised her brows. 'What are you talking about?"_

 _He licked his lips, his eyes flicking down hers, his heart hammering hard beneath his chest. He shrugged slightly and gingerly, tentatively even, started leaning forward, tilting his head and inching his lips closer and closer to hers, "Stay with me tonight, help me forget everything," he whispered. His voice gruff, low, sexy, and filled with every intention of what had planned for them if she did._

 _He bridged the last bit of distance between them and captured her lips with his. He hesitated before moving to deepen the kiss, planning to pull away if she flinched, if she showed any indication of letting him know he'd gone too far, but she didn't. She parted her lips to him and he eagerly accepted her invitation, enveloping her into a hungry, desperate kiss. One that left little imagination to the things he wanted to do to her. She responded as eagerly as he, and he moved his hands from his pockets and wound them around her, pulling her body flush against his. One arm wandered it's way into the back of her hair and the other dipped it's way down until it was cupping her ass. His hips ground against hers and he grinned against her lips when he heard her whimper._

 _A bright flash of light and loud clap of thunder broke the magic spell between the two and she pulled away quickly. Panting and trembling, she planted both hands on his chest and shook her head somberly. "I can't...I can't do that, Daryl," she forced herself to say. "Whatever it is, whatever you're running from, if I sleep with you tonight, it's still gonna be there tomorrow when you wake up and leave. It's still gonna be there the next day whenever you get wherever the hell it is you're going. If we do this tonight, it'd probably be great...Hell after that kiss it might even be the best sex I ever had in my life," she laughed nervously, flushing from embarrassment," but it won't change anything for you. I can't let you use me as a way to drown your sorrows. You gotta face whatever it is head on. You gotta learn to live with it and find a way to be happy and at peace. If you don't, you're gonna end up being stuck as the same person who walked into that diner this afternoon. Angry, bitter, sad, alone." She sucked in a deep breath and looked him dead in the eye. "I can't live my life knowing I played a part in that. Because I don't know you well, I don't even know your last name, but I get this feeling that you're a good person and that you've got a real chance at living a pretty amazing life if you let yourself," she let her hands fall from his chest, "I'm sorry, Daryl."_

 _He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. "Don't be. I'm the one that should be. I shouldn't've done that. I just...I thought," he sighed. "Don't matter. I'm sorry." He dug the tip of his left shoe into the gravel, causing the rocks to mash and crunch together. "Even if I made an ass outta myself, tonight was still the best night I had in awhile. Thank ya for everything. Goodnight, Carol. Take care of yourself.." He turned to walk off, but she reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks._

 _"Daryl," his eyes met hers , they were full of rejection and she bit down on her bottom lip in an effort to talk herself out of caving into his previous invitation. "I can't stay with you tonight, but I don't want this to be the last time I ever see you. Come see me again tomorrow. Before you leave. Come to the diner at 9 in the morning?" She let go of his hand and smiled weakly at him. "I really hope you'll be there."_

 _***End of Flashback***_

Daryl made his way into the grocery store, pulling the small list out of his pocket, he went to work retrieving the items she'd written down. He'd grabbed a basket instead of a buggy, knowing he didn't have much to get. He went down the fresh fruit and veggie aisle first, gathering up the bananas and garlic. Carol did most of their shopping, so he was a bit lost as to where to go for the rest, having to rely on the signs above the aisles for direction. Luckily, the cans of chicken noodle and veggie soup were located on the same one as the chicken broth. Next, he walked to the drink aisle, grabbing a Sprite and Ginger Ale so she'd have a choice as to which she rather drink. He hoped this was only a twenty-four hour bug, but you never knew. Besides, it's likely he'd end up sick next. He might as well have stuff on hand for when he came down with it. After that he grabbed some more Pepto tablets on the medicine aisle, just in case they ran out. Finally there was nothing left on the list other than the last item Carol had jotted down.

His heart fell into his stomach as he sluggishly made his way to the aisle that contained contraceptives and pregnancy tests. He stayed to the left, browsing through the different brands of EPT's. He was sure they'd probably bought at least one of every single pregnancy test ever manufactured by this point. He reached out, taking a handful of the store brand tests, opting against the more expensive named brand ones. He wasn't gonna pay damn near 20 bucks a piece for the name brand to tell him what he already knew. He could get three of the generic store brands for that price, so that's what he did, shoving the tests angrily in his basket. He knew that a few weeks, a few months from now, inevitably she'd wanna take another one. And rather than have to go to the store and go through this feeling again he'd rather have the nasty little reminders waiting under his bathroom sink.

Chest tight, head hanging, eyes trained on the white tile, he made his way made towards the register. Just his luck, there were four people ahead of him in line. After what seemed like forever, he was finally able to get checked out and head out of the store. He bounded into the parking lot and started to make his way to his truck.

"Hey man, what's up?"

Daryl turned around at the sound of the familiar voice. Behind him was Rick Grimes, father to Carl and Judith, one of Daryl's closet friends. Rick was walking up next to him, having just exited his own vehicle."Just picking some stuff up," Daryl muttered gruffly in response, not feeling much for conversation at the moment, even if Rick was a good friend of his.

"Cool. I'm just grabbing something for dinner. Rotisserie chicken, maybe. I don't know. Lori wasn't up for cooking. Judith was bouncing off the walls all day. Terrible twos. Carl's on break from school, so he was driving her crazy too. You know how that is. You and Carol have watched them enough," Rick chuckled, then glanced in one of the bags Daryl was holding, his eyes falling on one of the three pink and white boxes sticking out. His mouth gaped and his eyes grew wide as he stared at his friend. "Does Carol think...

Daryl internally cursed himself for not hiding the tests better. He hadn't counted on running into anyone he knew that would see them and start to ask questions. "She ain't," Daryl growled before Rick could utter the words. "Don't matter what she thinks, you know that just as well I do."

Rick's face fell, knowing the struggle his friends had gone through trying to make a baby. He tried to be encouraging. "You never know, man. It could happen."

That was it. That was what set him off. What sent him over the edge emotionally. His grip around the plastic bags tightened until it was painfully hard and what was left of his gnawed fingernails dug into the skin of his palms. He lashed out. "NO THE FUCK IT WON'T!" He yelled in the middle of the parking lot. "It won't happen, Rick. She ain't pregnant, she got the fucking virus from when we watched your kids the other night and they started puking their brains out and she had to clean up after 'em. And she woke up in the middle of the night last night doing the same damn thing. Now some part of her is convinced that ain't why she's puking, that maybe, _just maybe_ it's something else. And I can't even tell her what we both know deep down...that she ain't and that there ain't a damn bit of sense in pissing all this money away on pregnancy tests, and IUI, and whatever the fuck else someone says might give us a chance in hell...," his voice cracked and he had to stop talking before he broke down even more, his chest heaved as he sucked in a deep breath to try and steady himself.

Rick put up his hands up and out in front of him, as if in surrender. "I'm sorry. I know how hard this has been on you..."

Daryl felt like the wind had been knocked out of him and he lashed out again. "NO YA DON'T!" He slung his free arm in frustration. "You'll never how I feel. Because ya got two beautiful kids. Kids ya had the luxury of planning to have when ya wanted. Ya had Carl and decided that ya didn't want another one so your wife got on the pill. Then ya changed your mind nine years later and ya knocked her up within a few months of trying for a baby. We ain't got that luxury. I can't get my wife pregnant, Rick." He pounded his fist against his chest. "ME! I CAN'T! My brother can allegedy have six bastard kids by five woman, two of which are twins, that he didn't even give a shit to go see before he went and got his ass sent to prison. That fucking despicable, piece of shit, asshole she was married to before she ever met me, he could make a baby. But me...I can't do that. _I_ can't give her that. And you have no idea how much it fucking hurts to know that. How hard it is. How much I wanna be able to do that more than anything in the world. So fuck off Rick, you don't know jack shit."

Daryl spun on his heels, not offering a second glance in Rick's direction. He stalked off, snatching the door of his truck open and slamming it as hard as he could.

 **I'm glad you guys are enjoying this so far. Thanks for those of you that left comments and thanks for all of you reading. I hope to dive a little into Carol's mindset and things from her perspective next chapter. I planned to do that this one, but I just couldn't get into the grove of where I wanted to go with that. It wouldn't flow. Hope this was okay instead.**


	3. Chapter 3

,Carol was sitting on the couch, her feet scrunched up on the second cushion, her fingers busy at work as she tediously knitted away at the tiny blanket in her lap. She'd chosen a zigzag pattern with a row of white, two rows of yellow, three rows of green, then it started all over again.

She'd promised Daryl on the phone earlier that she'd taken it easy today, and that had been the truth. She hadn't done anything strenuous. Nothing that would require too much energy. She hadn't dusted or swept or washed dishes or piddled in her small garden or tended to her plants, she hadn't even tried to cook for fear that something would set off her nausea again which had thankfully dissipated a few hours after Daryl had gone to work.

And honestly, even though that sick to her stomach feeling had disappeared and she didn't feel anywhere near as bad as she had in the wee hours of the morning or just after sunrise, she'd still felt a tab bit off. She'd had a pounding headache she hadn't been able to rid herself of and she'd felt sort of weak, lethargic even. She just couldn't seem to muster a whole lot of energy.

But even so, she still couldn't feel content with doing _absolutely_ nothing at all the entire day.

She'd stayed in bed and watched a movie early in the morning, not long after Daryl left, back when she was still feeling the worst of it. Later she'd began to re-read one of her favorite books, one with worn and tattered pages and a rippled cover that she'd probably read a million times before and knew most of the words by heart. Then, their friend Maggie had came by around lunch time to check on her. She'd brought her a 20 ounce bottle of Ginger Ale and had practically forced Carol to eat some saltines, stating that she didn't wanna hear it from Daryl if she left without knowing his wife had something on her stomach.

Maggie was a sweet girl with a heart of gold and it had meant a lot to Carol that her friend had stopped by to check on her today, even if Carol did feel like she must have been an inconvenience to the poor girl. Maggie was a good bit younger than Carol, at least ten years, but the two had formed an easy friendship after they met a few years back. Maggie's husband worked with Daryl at the construction company. In fact, in a way the kid was Daryl's boss. He and Daryl had hit it off pretty quickly after Glenn took the position and Glenn had invited him and Carol out to eat with them after work one day. The rest had been history and the four became good friends.

Maggie had stayed with Carol awhile, chatting and keeping her company, but eventually she'd had to go back to work and Carol was left alone once more. Which is how Carol found herself knitting that afternoon.

Knitting was a skill Carol had picked up a long time ago, something her grandmother taught her to do when she was only a girl. She couldn't count the items in their house she'd hand stitched over the years, including the camouflage quilt she'd made for Daryl that was hanging behind her head on the back of their couch. She'd even made Lori a tiny, pink and white polka dot, pillow case dress for Judith. She'd hand stitched Maggie a blue and purple scarf this past Christmas. One her friend had squealed in delight over and worn whenever she had the chance. Anytime she had a spare moment or needed quiet time to relax, she usually found herself knitting, whether it was for herself or for someone else.

Carol paused her work and glanced up at the clock. She dropped the needles and yarn in her lap after she realized how late it had gotten. Daryl should be home soon and the last thing she wanted was for him to catch her working on that blanket.

It wasn't like she thought he'd be mad at her for something as simple as knitting a blanket. It wasn't even like the man got mad at her very often to begin with. She could probably count on one hand the number of truly bad arguments they'd had in 9 years of marriage, 11 years of being together total. And it was rare for them to fight over something trivial. Bicker and disagree a bit, maybe that occurred more than a handful of times, but not full blown arguments where yelling and hurtful words were involved.

The only thing she was worried about was him coming home upset and bitching about was her partaking in any strenuous activity while she was sick, and knitting wasn't the least bit strenuous. And he wouldn't be mad at her per say, as much as he'd be doing it out of concern about her delaying the healing process or over exerting herself. He'd always been so over protective of her, so determined to look out for her and her well-being. She knew a lot of that stemmed from what he knew about her past.

He'd probably be glad she'd chosen something as simple as knitting keep her occupied today. What _would_ be upsetting to him, was _what_ she was knitting. That tiny, white, yellow, and green blanket whose purpose he'd automatically be able to piece together in his mind the moment he saw it. Especially after their conversation this morning and what she knew he must have found by now on that list she'd given him.

She cringed thinking of the reaction he must have had when he read that item off, and later how it must have impacted him to actually pick it up and pay for it.

It would hurt his heart, she knew that. To even think about having to see another negative result, for what would feel like the hundredth time now, it was a difficult thing to deal with for both of them. His heart was probably already threatening to shatter to pieces after picking it up. She couldn't deny her own nervous, worried flutter that was bubbling in her belly, that familiar ache in her chest knowing that this test very well could turn out the same way all the others had. And as much as she hoped that this time would be different, despite the tiny feeling in her gut that told her to get him to pick up that test, as much as she truly believed it would happen for them one day, the logical part of her still whispered in her ear that there was a good chance today wouldn't be that day.

That's why she couldn't let him see her knitting that blanket. He'd see it as a painful remember as something they might not ever have. Not as a symbol of hope for what she truly believed with all her heart that they'd get someday. He didn't carry that same sliver of hope in his heart she did. He couldn't let himself, and she didn't hold it against him for it. She couldn't, because she understood how disheartening this journey had been, she'd been living it right along beside him.

He'd never tell her that he'd lost hope, though, he'd never speak those words aloud. And she found herself grateful to him for that fact. Because it was one thing to see it in his eyes, to hear the hint of it buried in his voice, but it would be a completely different experience to hear those words brought to life. And she couldn't handle him looking her in the eye and saying it. And he knew that, she knew he did. He knew her so well, the same intimate way she knew him.

From the moment she met him in that diner all those years ago she'd been able to read him, to tap into what he was feeling. His eyes. His body language. They betrayed so much of himself that his mouth would never dare allow. Daryl spoke so much more with his actions than he ever had or would with words.

That glimmer of excitement was no longer there in his blue eyes any time she took a test or mentioned something she thought _might just be_ a symptom. The almost giddy anticipation that used to carry in his voice any time the mention of a baby or hope for one was brought up had been replaced by a melancholy tone. He tried like hell to hide it, to keep that part of him buried so he wouldn't hurt her, but when two people were connected the way they were, you couldn't ever really hide the truth from them. You could brace them from the pain, make certain things easier, but you couldn't hide your inner most thoughts from the person you loved and were bonded with that way.

He couldn't help how he felt any more than she could help the fact that she needed to knit this blanket as a reminder that someday they'd have what they longed for. She had to believe that. Something you felt so strongly in your heart, in your gut, it had to be true. She couldn't let herself stop clinging to that hope, no matter how tiny or small it seemed to be.

She'd experienced some horrible things in her life, things that still haunted her today, and that she knew would haunt her until the day she died, but she had to believe that there was some respite to the struggle she'd gone through in her past. Respite to the one she and her husband were going through now.

()()()

Carol slowly stood up and made the short trek from the couch to their bedroom, clutching her knitting materials and the blanket she'd been working on in her hand. She made her way to her night stand, pulling open the bottom drawer to put away her things. She'd work on that blanket some more another day. On a day when Daryl wouldn't have to see it. Maybe one weekend when he was off hunting, or an evening he had to work late, she'd pull the blanket out then and go back to work on it again.

For now, she'd hide it in the bottom drawer of her night stand. Inside that drawer there were two wool caps, hand stitched by her own fingers. One pink and one blue, both with _Dixon_ embroidered across the front. She'd made them whey they first decided to start trying for a baby. Not knowing whether they'd end up with a boy or girl, but hoping someday they'd have one of each. Long before she knew they'd run into any hurdles in that process. Long before she knew the pain that trying for a baby would bring.

She placed her items on the bed and reached inside that drawer. A drawer full of love, happiness, and gut-wrenching heartache resting itself at the very bottom. First she pulled out an old green photo album that was sitting on top of everything. She smiled down at, unable to resist the urge to flip it open.

The first picture inside was one of her and Daryl, a picture that was now going on twelve years old. It wasn't taken long after they'd first met. The two of them were at the diner and somebody, she couldn't even remember who now, was taking pictures. It was Francine's birthday and after closing up they'd thrown a small party for her. Carol was standing with a piece of cake in hand, a party hat atop her head, and Daryl was standing there right next to her, one arm around her shoulder. She was smiling brightly, eyes straight ahead, facing the camera lens, Daryl's face was turned towards her, his eyes beaming mischievously, tongue snaked out of the corner of his mouth licking the side of her cheek.

He had such a goofy, almost quirky side to him, one she never would have guessed existed at first glance under that hard exterior he'd portrayed that day they met. Under all that anger and hurt he'd been feeling back then.

That was the first picture they'd ever taken together, even though they weren't technically an item then. But in so many ways she'd been his since that first day they met, since that first kiss they'd shared, and he'd been every bit as much hers.

The second picture was taken not long after they officially became a couple. It was a picture snapped on a disposable camera. They were in the booth at the diner, the same one they'd spent the day talking in when they first met. He had one around her while her head was resting in the crook of his neck, arms slung low around his waist, clutching him tightly. Both of them were smiling as wide as could be.

Back then they'd been so young, life had been so full of possibilities, they'd both been filled with so much hope for what their future might hold.

The tip of her index fingered brushed the plastic covering the picture, protecting it as a memory frozen in time. Her eyes lingered on that smile he was sporting in that old, faded photo.

She remembered seeing him smile like that for the very first time, not just that sideways grin he did so often, but the first full on toothy, grin he'd given her. In a way it was an almost goofy sort of smile, his eyes would squint up and his cheeks would squish, but his smile radiated along his face and made those gorgeous blue eyes of his sparkle even more than they already did. She'd sworn it was one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen. Her heart had dropped into her stomach and she'd known right then and there how screwed she was when it came to him. Falling for him was inevitable at that point.

All she'd wanted to do to was see him happy. To be able to see that same smile on his face. To know he was okay.

She'd wanted that since the first time she met him.

Above everything else, it's all she still wanted.

 _***11 years ago, the next morning at the diner***_

 _The next morning Carol arrived at the diner about ten minutes 'till 9. Daryl was already there waiting. Perched just in front of the doubledoors, smoking a cigarette._

 _Carol shouldered her purse and couldn't help but smile, pleased he'd come at all, but even more thrilled he'd been a little_ _early. "You came!"_

 _He nodded, taking a long drag. When he exhaled he shrugged a shoulder and met her eyes. "Wanted to see ya again." He blushed a bit from his own blunt admission, then held his cigarette clad hand out to her. "Wanna hit?"_

 _Carol shook her head at him, grinning at his words and the pink tinge to his cheeks. "No thanks. I don't smoke." She motioned to the door with her head. "Let's go inside. I'll make you some coffee." She reached in her purse, retrieving her keys to the locked diner, which wouldn't open to the public until 11._

 _Daryl nodded, took one last, long drag and stubbed his cigarette out. He pushed himself up off the concrete step and brushed his hands over his knees to knock some of the dirt off, then followed her inside after she unlocked the door._

 _Carol made her way into to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee and Daryl slid himself into the booth they'd sat in yesterday, idly twiddling his thumbs as he waited for her to return. When she finally did she was carrying two steaming coffee mugs and two blueberry muffins. She placed all four items on the table and slid into the seat in front of him. "Coffee's fresh, muffins not so much. They're left over from yesterday. The owner let's us hang onto left over goodies and snack on them the next day." She pushed the mug she'd readied for him towards him, the coffee was almost straight, save for one spoonful of sugar. "Just like you like it." She'd seen him order black coffee all four times yesterday and add a single teaspoon of sugar as they sat and talked. Carol gripped her own mug, bringing it just below her lips and blowing away the steam rising from the rim. She'd added so much creamer and sugar to hers it might as well have been a dessert._

 _"Thanks," Daryl muttered, grabbing one of the muffin's and taking a large bite. "I'm starving."_

 _She stifled a laugh as crumbs from the muffin dropped onto the green button up shirt with cut off sleeves and frayed edges that he was wearing. By his second bite he'd inhaled the whole muffin and he was licking crumbs off his fingers. Carol sipped at her coffee, determining it was finally cool enough it wouldn't scorch her lips. There was a sort of thick silence between them now, some tension and awkwardness that hadn't been there last night. She was sure it stemmed from his proposition and her rejection. Though she was encouraged he'd still shown up in spite of it. She just wasn't sure how to move past that and into what she wanted to say._

 _She never imagined that they'd click the way they had yesterday. That they'd fall into such easy, enjoyable conversation. She sure never planned on any of the mild flirtation that occurred, though she had to admit, even when angry and sad looking, he was quite attractive. He only grew more good looking when he let himself relax and he allowed all the pain and tension he was carrying to drain from him._

 _The color of those icy blue eyes of his changed slightly until they became the same baby blue color of the sky on a perfect spring day. And she'd let herself get lost staring into those gorgeous eyes of his eyes as she sat there with him. She'd constantly had to remind herself that he was a stranger, a stranger in a bad place on top of that, and that he would be on his way to who knows where tomorrow._

 _But then he'd kissed her. A kiss unlike anything she'd ever experienced before in her 27 years of life. She'd gone weak in her knees, her body felt like it was on fire, yet freezing cold all at the same time. Heat coiled in her chest she could feel chills shooting all the way down her spine to the very tips of her toes._

 _It had taken every ounce of will power she'd been able to muster to say no to him when he whispered to her, all sexy sounding, voice full of temptation and the best kind of sin, begging her to stay with him, pleading with her to help him forget. She'd wanted nothing more than to follow him back to that sleazy little motel and do just that, and she probably would have if that flash of lighting and clap of thunder hadn't brought her back down to reality. If it hadn't been there to remind her that he was going through something difficult. That what he really needed wasn't just to forget, but to learn how to cope._

 _She shook off those memories of the night before and focused on the here and now. "Did you sleep okay?" Carol asked him in an attempt to fill the silence and move forward._

 _Daryl hummed and sipped his coffee. The answer to that question was no. No he hadn't slept good at all. He'd gone back to that shitty motel disappointed and horny. He'd had every intention of finding some liquor store and getting shit faced drunk until he passed out. But he hadn't been able to do that. All he'd been able to do was think about the time he'd spent with her, about that kiss, about the way she felt pressed against him, and about everything she'd said to him. How he needed to learn how to deal with what happened, how he couldn't keep finding ways to drown out what was bothering 'em. "Not really," he finally mumbled. He ran the tip of his index finger across the rim of the mug. "Thought a lot 'bout what ya said to me...'bout how we left things, bout the day we spent together."_

 _"Yeah?" She hesitantly asked, wondering if his thinking had been good or bad and feeling a slight tinge of guilt for leaving him all alone last night, though she still stood by her reasoning._

 _"Yeah...And uh...Ya were right...What I been doing...How I been living...It ain't really living. Who I been? I don't like him so much. Hell, that guy almost made me miss out on spending a day with a real pretty girl because he was such dick." The tips of his ears burned, he wasn't sure where all of this directness was coming from with her, but he found that he couldn't turn it off. She grinned and blushed and his eyes dipped from hers and landed on his coffee mug. "I ain't...I ain't sure how I'm supposed to go about all this. How I'm supposed to stop being mad and angry and all that shit. What I'm supposed to do from here." He swiped a hand through his hair. "Fuck! I don't even know where I'm going from here. Don't got nowhere to go. I got less than a hundred bucks to my name."_

 _Carol gnawed at her bottom lip a moment, then gingerly reached for her purse that was right beside her in the booth. She pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Daryl. "Don't go anywhere."_

 _He carefully unfolded the single sheet of paper she handed him and scanned his eyes over it. When he was finished reading it he arched a brow at her and couldn't hide the confusion in his voice, nor in his eyes. "A job application?"_

 _She nodded. "You could work here. We need some extra help. I already talked to my boss about you after I went home. You said yourself you have nowhere to go, well then don't go anywhere, Daryl. Stay here. You could use a friend right now, and as far as I see it, I'm the closest thing you have to that at the moment. I can help you figure the rest out. I told you, I've been there."_

 _His face was troubled and he placed the paper on the table and pushed it back towards her, his voice somber when he spoke. "Ya don't want me to work here. Ya don't wanna be my friend. If ya knew what I was running from ya'd be ashamed ya spent all that time with me yesterday. Ya'd hate yourself for kissing me back...I'm glad ya didn't go back to that motel with me, because ya'd hate yourself if ya did and ya found out what I was."_

 _"That's not true..."_

 _"Yes it is!" He snapped. "It is! Ya don't know me, Carol. Nothing about my life. Where I been, where I come from, my family. My brother's Merle Dixon. Maybe ya heard of him? He's in jail for armed robbery and attempted murder of a woman with 5 kids. And it ain't just him, the rest of them, the blood that runs through my veins, it ain't full of nothing but drunks, wife and kid beaters, and dope heads. Ya don't want somebody kin to people like that working here. Hanging around ya. I shouldn't have even wasted your time last night...you're a nice girl...and I get your trying to help...but there ain't no helping a damn Dixon." He shook his head vigorously and moved to slide out of the booth. "I shouldn't've come here this morning."_

 _Carol stopped him, reaching across the table and placing both hands over his. "I'm sorry your brother did that. I'm sorry your family's like that."_

 _His eyes moved up and met hers. He'd been expecting a look of disdain, the sound of disgust in her voice, but it wasn't there. Instead, she looked back at him with compassion, concern even. He could hear the empathy echoing in her voice. An almost understanding there of how he felt, of why he was lashing out. She didn't offer him the same contempt everyone else had. The same judgement for simply being related to a host of people who made terrible choices._

 _She circled her thumb over his and shook her head solemnly. "You're not your brother. You're not these other people in your family whose flaws and faults you just named. You're Daryl. Daryl Dixon. And you didn't name one single reason why I shouldn't wanna be around you. Not one reason why I shouldn't wanna help you see that."_

 _He started at her in awe, fully realizing for the first time how much it seemed she really could relate to him. "What happened to ya? Ya said ya understood how I felt. Somebody did something to ya and ya blame yourself. That's it...ain't it?"_

 _Carol's lips fell into a sad line. Her normally bright eyes turned bleak._

 _"It was bad, huh?"_

 _Her bottom lip quaked and she was only able to nod a small yes to him._

 _Now his thumb was the one running comforting circles over hers. "It's okay. Ya ain't gotta talk about it."_

 _She shook her head, taking a moment to clear her throat. "No...No...It's alright...I'll tell you. Just give me a minute."_

 _***End of flashback****_

Carol's bottom lip trembled and she closed the photo album, setting it to the side on top of her comforter. She reached in the drawer and pulled out those two knit caps she'd made about five years ago. A single tear escaped her eye as she pictured a child, no children she'd prayed so hard for. Hoped so hard for. Yet still didn't have. Though she could picture these babies in her mind so clearly. Ten fingers, ten toes, all wrinkles. A little girl with big blue eyes and her mommy's smile. A little boy that was the spitting image of Daryl. All pouty face and squinty eyes, that same goofy smile his daddy had. She rested a hand over her stomach, letting it linger just a moment, then placed the two caps on the bed next to the photo album with the hand she'd been clutching them in. She smoothed them out, running her fingers along the name Dixon that was etched into them. She sucked in a shaky breath and then turned to reach into the drawer once more.

This time, she pulled out a hand-stitched, pink blanket. One knitted long before she ever met Daryl. Long before she ever dreamed of anything like the life she'd built with him. Before she ever dreamed a love like the two shared could exist. This blanket did not belong to the hope of a child that wasn't yet conceived, it was not knitted for some fantasy child she dreamed would some day exist, it wasn't something she'd knitted for a friend.

No, it was nothing like that. This particular blanket belonged to a child she'd carried in her own womb, a child who she'd once felt summersaulting around inside of her body, a child whose heartbeat used to light up her ears each ultra sound, a child she never go to officially meet, whose sweet face she never got to see, but that she loved all the same and still longed to hold in her arms each day.

Body trembling, tears already falling, Carol tightly clutched the tiny blanket against her chest. Letter by letter her fingertips traced the name etched in white in the bottom corner of the folded blanket. "Sophia," she choked out, her heart in her throat.

 **I know this is God awfully heartbreaking right now. Writing something like this is very different from anything else I've ever done before. Sorry if it's a bit bleak, I know the show tears us apart enough.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't usually do this, but since I'm dealing with a sensitive topic, just going ahead and saying that this chapter is gonna deal with sensitive material regarding abuse and tragic loss. I didn't want someone to start reading and then, having personally dealt with something like that or knowing someone who has, for it to be a problem for them. I'm not going into heavy, gory detail, or anything, but just wanted to throw that out there in case someone would rather know ahead of time and choose not to read because of it.**

 **Thank you all for reading and reviewing. It means a lot. It's good to know that as angsty as this is, you guys are liking it. I'm glad that the flashbacks seem to be helping to lighten the mood some for some of you. It was what I was hoping for with them. I was just a little nervous about writing something like this, as I'm sure was gathered from my last author's note.**

 _****11 years ago at the diner, the morning of their second meeting****_

 _After pulling in a steady breath, Carol felt composed enough to tell Daryl what had happened to her all those years ago that had left her in such a dark place for awhile. He'd patiently waited for her as she'd gathered her bearings, sitting with her in silence, giving her that time she'd needed. His thumb still running gentle circles over hers._

 _Hers eyes flicked up and met his, her voice not much above a whisper as she began to recall her story to him. "I was married once. A long time ago, it almost seems like a different lifetime now. He was my high school sweetheart," she paused, used to people jumping in with questions at this point, but he didn't have any, so she continued, "we were married not long after graduation. That June to be precise. I was young and naïve back then, I couldn't see it. I couldn't see who he really was."_

 _Daryl titled his head at her, he had an idea of what she was about to say and it was enough to send a course of anger through his veins, but he didn't interrupt her and jump to conclusions, he simply let her continue._

 _"He was so possessive, so jealous, even before we were married. He couldn't stand for me to even glance at another man or for another man to take a second look at me." She shook hear head. "Back then, when I was a teenager, I even romanticized that. I thought it was sweet, that it showed how much he loved me. I didn't see how controlling it was...How much he used that to isolate me. Anyway, we ah, we got married and he got a job out of town, away from my parents, away from all of my friends, or what was left of them. Ed monopolized most of my time to the point I'd drifted away from the majority of them._

 _Yeah, this story was all too familiar to Daryl. Sounded a lot like his own mama's. He gritted his teeth and listened to what she had to say, hoping it would take a different direction, hoping this sweet, beautiful girl somehow escaped the hell he'd seen his own mama go through as a boy._

 _"So we moved...moved hours away from all we'd ever known, for a job that barely paid above minimum wage. I offered to get a job myself to help out. We could've used the money. Needed it really. But Ed wouldn't hear such a thing. "No wife of mine's gonna be out working," he'd say. Except at first, he'd make it...make it sound sweet. Spin it a different way. He'd say that it was his job to provide for me, to make sure I was taken care of, that he didn't want me to have to burden myself with a man's work. He said my only job was gonna be to keep him happy. Once again, I romanticized that notion, submitting myself to be a dutiful housewife. I even convinced myself how lucky I was to have someone who "cared" so much about me."_

 _Carol could feel the lump forming in her throat as she got closer and closer to the worst parts of the story, dreading the most painful part, but also feeling the need to talk about. She pulled one of her hands away from it's resting place on top of Daryl's and grabbed her coffee mug, taking a small sip. When she was done she gently placed the ceramic mug on the table and continued, pushing that sob back down...for now. "Six months...Six months and 24 days into that marriage...That' s how long it took for him to start showing his true colors. It's the day I should have ran like hell...He'd lost his job," she further explained, "That shitty little job that barely paid the bills in the first place, he'd lost it for smarting off at his boss. And after two weeks of sitting on his ass drinking and not bothering to find another one, I went out one day when he was passed out on the couch and found one for myself. We had the light bill due, rent was coming up, no way to pay them. I thought I'd be doing him a favor. Us a favor." She shook her head woefully. "I found one at a gas station. One of those that served food. They needed a cook immediately and offered the job to me on the spot. I was so proud. So happy with myself. I thought Ed would be too...God was I wrong" pausing to suck in a shaky breath, she continued," I went home and told him, expecting him to be as thrilled as I was, expecting him to be happy we'd be able to make rent...I never expected that to be the first time...The first time he...Hit me."_

 _"Carol..." That was it. Daryl knew enough, she didn't have continue. He didn't wanna put her through it._

 _"There's more, Daryl."_

 _"Ya ain't gotta tell me the rest...I get it. It was bad...Asshole should burn for putting his hands on a woman. Ya ain't gotta put yourself through telling me the rest."_

 _She wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye. "You have no idea how much worse it gets...But I need to tell you. Sometimes...Sometimes I need to talk about...As much as it hurts...As painful as it is...As much as I push this memory back...Sometimes I have to."_

 _He nodded, moving his hand out from underneath hers and then brining it up and linking their hands together. He gave hers a gentle squeeze. "Go ahead."_

 _Through her tears, she gave him a weak smile at his comforting gesture. "He made out like it was my fault. He said I made him do it. That he'd told me I wasn't gonna work. That I had a job and it was to take care of him. He said if I'd have just listened, that he wouldn't have had to do that. Then he apologized and pulled me into his arms and hugged me and kissed me, kissed the black eye he gave me." She gritted her teeth, feeling so much anger at the memory. At Ed, at herself. "He said as long as I learned my lesson he'd never have to punish me again. That I needed to remember my place and be a good wife...But that was just the beginning...Just the doorway to the hell that my life came to be the next two years. I was his punching after that...Anything could set him off...His food not being warm enough, the towels not being folded to his liking, being gone to the grocery store too long...And I didn't...I didn't have anywhere to turn to...I stayed stuck in that damn apartment all the time and never made any friends...I couldn't tell anyone. My parents...they were very traditional. Do what your husband says, always stick the marriage out, no matter what. I'd seen my own mother put up with countless infidelities from my father over the years...I didn't think divorce was an option. And I wasn't ever particularly close to them anyway...No siblings...It was just me...Just me and that awful, awful man I married."_

 _She was working her way through the story with tears streaming down both cheeks at this point and he could barely handle listening to it without demanding to know where the hell this guy was now so he could go give him a taste of his own damn medicine. He hated seeing women cry. His daddy kept his mama in tears and even though he'd been raised to see women beat on and treated like shit, he'd known he couldn't ever be that man. He'd known it was wrong, even from a young age. Putting another human-being through the kinda torture and pain he'd seen growing up, it wasn't natural. Nothing was right about, and if it was what the fuck was supposed to be normal, he damn sure didn't wanna be that kinda normal. He didn't know what else to do at this point, what to say. So he did the only thing that he thought might be helpful, he reached across the table and grabbed a wad of napkins and handed them to her so she could wipe away her tears._

 _Carol took them, pulling a single napkin out of the wad, and dabbed away at her damp cheeks. "Thank you," she told him. She sniffled a bit and then picked up where she left off. "I think that's why...Why I so readily agreed to have a baby when he suggested it after being married for a year...Suggested?" She let out an ironic laugh. "Not that I'd have had a choice if I didn't want that." She watched as his jaw set and she felt his grip involuntarily tighten around her hand. She shook her head rapidly and corrected herself. "Not like that. He never...Never did that. I just meant that he wouldn't have used a condom and he wouldn't have paid for my birth control anymore..And he'd have "punished" me until I gave in to what he wanted...But as much wrong as he did...As much as he hurt me...He never did that."_

 _Daryl realized how tightly he was gripping her hand and quickly snatched it from hers quickly. "Didn't mean to hurt ya. Just thought...Made me really angry thinking that. Sorry. Didn't mean to hurt ya."_

 _"You didn't," she assured him. "It's fine."_

 _He nodded and gnawed at his lower lip, but didn't reach out to grab her hand again. Instead, he placed both hands in his lap. A realization of how little he actually knew this woman crossed his mind and he looked her dead in her eyes, posing his first question so far. His first verbal assumption. "You...You got a baby then? A kid?"_

 _Carol pressed her lips together in a tight line and shook her head solemnly, her voice was cracking and she was past the point of trying to stop it. "I'm getting to that part...So we started trying...It took a few months for me to actually get pregnant. He expected it to happen right away. Blamed me for it taking more than a few weeks. Constantly told me something was wrong with me...That I was useless...But then, one day, three or four months after trying, I woke up in the middle of the night, puking my brains out...Which only angered Ed because it woke him up...And I knew. Right then..I just knew...I could feel it in my bones. I was pregnant. Took a test the next day and it was positive. Two pink lines. It was the happiest I'd been in so long. I wasn't gonna be alone anymore...I was gonna have a baby."_

 _Daryl's brows furrowed, remembering how she said she didn't have a kid. His stomach formed a tight knot._

 _An ache formed in Carol's hear, an hollow pit in her stomach, a deep longing in her arms. But she forced herself to go on. "When he came home from work, he'd gotten another job by then, another one that didn't pay much, but it was a job. Anyway, when he got home, I told him. He was ecstatic, over the moon even. He picked me up, twirled me in his arms, and hugged me like he'd never hugged me before. He said he knew it was gonna be a boy, he said I was gonna give him a son, a name-sake, and he promised that from there on out, our marriage would be perfect. That he'd make sure his son and I had the best life possible. And for the next few months, things were better. Not perfect, but a hell of a lot better than they had been. He was still...Still verbally abusive...But not physical. He didn't lay a hand on me for fear of hurting his precious son." She scraped her bottom lip with her teeth. "Except...his precious son wasn't in there...It was a little girl. My sweet, perfect, beautiful little girl that I never got to meet." Tears were cascading at this point and she couldn't stop them, she couldn't turn all of her emotions off."_

 _Daryl hesitated, shaking his leg, very unsure of himself and what to do. Finally, unable to take seeing that anymore without doing something, he slipped out of his seat and into hers. Tentatively, he placed an arm around her shoulders, fearing he was crossing some boundary, some unspoken line after that kiss they shared. But he must not have been, because she didn't jerk away, she didn't ask him to move._

 _"20 weeks...20 weeks when I found out a little girl was growing inside of me. A daughter. And Ed was beyond disappointed that he wasn't going to have the son he so desperately wanted. But I thought...I thought he'd come around. I mean...I was carrying his child. I thought he'd get used to the idea of having a daughter and start to come around...I did everything I could think of to try and get him to. She was moving around at this point, doing little summersaults and pitter-pattering her little feet. I could feel her moving in there...And it was the most amazing feeling ever...This beautiful, overwhelming, life-altering feeling of my baby growing and moving around inside of me. I wanted Ed to feel that too. I thought...I thought if he did, that he'd be start to feel what I feel, that he'd fall in love with his child, our child...But he didn't. He wouldn't have any of it. I'd beg him to touch my belly anytime I felt the slightest movement, but he wouldn't. He didn't want any part of it. He didn't care to try and bond with her. He'd call her a little whore. His unborn daughter, he'd sit there an refer to her as a little whore any time he spoke about the baby."_

 _Carol paused and grabbed another napkin, wiping at her damp cheeks. "I knew...I just knew after that...He hated her, he hated her as much as he hated me. And once she was born, he wouldn't have hesitated to put his hands on her the same way he was doing to me. I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't let him hurt my baby. I put together a plan. To leave, to get as far away as possible, somewhere he'd never find us. I had no idea where, I just...I was gonna go...I took enough money out of the bank account to get a cab and a hotel for about a week, and I was just, I was gonna figure the rest out along the way...He came home one night...drunk...that wasn't unusual, it happened almost all the time. And I waited for him to pass out like he always would. I packed my suitcase and I was gonna slip out, quiet as a mouse. That's what was supposed to happen. I was gonna be free. My daughter and I...We were gonna be free...But...it didn't happen like that...It went wrong, so terribly, terribly wrong." Her voice completely cracked and she couldn't push down the sob._

 _"Daryl felt his own throat growing tight and he rubbed her back, he wasn't sure if it was more out of comfort for her or himself at this point. Seeing her in so much pain was hurting his own heart. "Hey...Shhhh...Hey. It's alright...You don't have to...You don't."_

 _She shook her head in resolution. "I do. I need to."_

 _He hesitantly nodded in understanding. "Alright..."_

 _"He woke up," she continued with a shaky breath, "he woke up right after I finished zipping my suitcase...Before I could even get out of the bedroom...He woke up and flew into a rage...He said...He said I was leaving him to be with another man...That that's why I was pregnant with a worthless little bitch instead of a name sake boy. Ed...He said he should have known all along the baby wasn't his. He had five brothers, his own father had three...Peletier's didn't make weak little girls, they made men. He grabbed me by my hair, slapped me, and called me a an adulterous, lying, slutty, useless bitch. He said...Said my baby, my baby was an abomination to the sanctity of our marriage...He said he wasn't going to let me go anywhere and that I'd pay for my infidelity against him...I tried to tell him I'd never cheated on him. That he was the only man I'd ever slept with. But it didn't stop him...Each hit, each blow, I begged him not to hurt my baby...Not to hurt our baby...I told him to do what he wanted to me...Just to please not hurt her. I promised to stay if he'd stop...But he wouldn't...He wouldn't stop..."_

 _She had to stop and compose herself, relieving the memory growing into too much to bare...Daryl sat with her in silence, rubbing slow circles over her back, all the while, setting his jaw and clenching his other hand into a tight fist._

 _She swallowed, her saliva thick and sticky, threatening to choke her on it's way down. "23 weeks and 4 four days...That's how far along I was...23 weeks and four days," she repeated. "I was more than half-way there. More than half-way there to meeting my perfect, sweet, beautiful little girl I'd already grown to love more than life itself...But I never even got to see her face." Her words came out with a remorseful, bitter edge. "The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital, days later. I'd had bleeding on my brain, I was suffering from a concussion, cracked ribs, broken wrist, 16 stitches above my left eye, a punctured lung...Lucky to be alive...That's what the nurse told me...But my baby, my Sophia, she wasn't so lucky. I'd lost her...There'd simply been nothing they could do."_

 _"Fuck, Carol...I'm sorry... I'm so sorry." He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do. Not that any words or actions could ever console that kind of loss._

 _"He...A neighbor...The next apartment over...He heard the screams as he was coming in from work. Broke the door down and saved my 's what they told me. He saw me on the ground, saw the blood, saw my pregnant belly...And he just reacted...He shot him...Killed the bastard right there in that apartment. I was free...But I wasn't...Not really...I lived in my own personal hell for a long time after that. A hell that was worse than anything I lived with Ed...I hated myself...Blamed myself for him taking my baby away from me...I wondered how I could marry someone like that...How I didn't see the signs...I didn't understand how I stayed...Why I didn't leave sooner...I should've gone the moment I found out I was pregnant...'Till this day, I'll always wonder what if..."_

 _Her confession, that gut-wrenching, heart-breaking tale she'd just relayed to him, it really put his life into perspective. He'd been living his life pissed off and angry because Merle was in prison, but Merle was still alive, he still had him, he could go visit him. And Merle, he'd done something to desrve to be there, maybe Daryl didn't think he deserved the exact amount of time he got, but he had done wrong. Carol, she didn't have her little girl. She was stolen from her, and unlike Merle, she hadn't deserved that punishment._

 _And her story also connected him to her in a way that he hadn't thought possible before. Maybe it's why he'd clicked with her so easily to begin with. She understood what it was like to live with abuse. He'd seen his own mama put up with years of abuse, never mustering the courage to leave like Carol had tried to do._

 _Carol had at least attempted to get herself and that baby away from that. "It wasn't your fault...," he told her._

 _"I know that now...I do...It took me a very, very long time to realize...And some wonderful people. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for them. I really wouldn't. My nurse in the hospital, Andrea, I gave her such a hard time after it happened. I didn't wanna eat...I didn't wanna drink...I didn't wanna get out of my bed...I was inconsolable. But she pushed me, listened to me, constantly told me it wasn't my fault...That it was his...That I'd lived for a reason and that even if it didn't seem like it now that one day I'd realize that reason. At the time, I didn't believe her. Didn't believe much of anything. But I had to stay in that hospital a while...And she brought a counselor to start seeing me. Her best friend. A woman who'd been through something similar to me. Her name was Michonne and her boyfriend had taken her two year old son from her in a drug induced rage...Her little boy that she'd carried not only in her womb and her heart, but also in her arms. And she got through it...And she told me she was gonna make sure I did too...And she did...When I got out of that hospital she took me to a woman's shelter...I had nowhere to go...No money...No job...Nothing except for the nurse who'd befriended me and taken care of me in that hospital and that wonderful woman who became, not only my counselor, but one of my best friends. And I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for them...I wouldn't be who I am."_

 _Daryl looked at her, staring deep into her eyes, and he told her, "Ya gotta be one of the strongest people I ever met. To be sitting here right now. To be the person ya are...I don't get it. Treating me like ya did yesterday after I acted like that to ya...Ya shouldn't have even wanted to be around me. Not after all ya been through."_

 _"You were an asshole," she admitted quietly, dabbing at her eyes with another napkin. "But not the kind my ex-husband was...See...I know a little bit of what it's like to push people away when you're hurting and angry. Michonne and Andrea? I can't count the hurtful things I said to them when I first me them. I can't tell you why they wanted to help me. One day...Michonne...She looked me dead in the eye and told me I was alive, I was breathing, but I wasn't living. She said, "That man, he took years of your life, he took your child from you, he took your self-esteem, but he didn't take your future. You got another chance at that. You can still make a life for yourself...If you don't let yourself...Then he wins. He gets exactly what he wanted. To snuff out your light...Your hope. You gotta have hope Carol, if you don't what are you really living for." Then she pulled out a picture of herself with a handsome man and two beautiful little girls. "This is what I'm living for now, Carol. These three and you and every other woman like us. Don't let that son of a bitch take anything else from you."_

 _Carol sighed deeply and fiddled with one of the soaked, balled up napkins sitting in front of her. "She was right...I miss my little girl every day. It's been 7 years and still I wonder who she'd be. What she'd look like. I don't think I'll ever stop thinking about her...But when I saw that picture of Michonne and her family...When I saw, really saw, how much it meant to her to help me.. I wanted that. All of it...I wanted to help people who are hurting. I wanted a second chance at having a family someday...A child, children even, and a husband who loves me and cherishes me...I want all of that...And I haven't let myself get anywhere near to being close to getting it. I mean, I've dated, it took four years for me to be ready for that, but I put myself out there again and let myself meet people. I'll even admit I've slept around with a few of the guys I've been out with...But I haven't let it get far because I always pull away before I get attached...And Michonne and Andrea...They think it's because I'm scared of getting emotionally attached again and things going to hell...But that's not it." She paused and shook her head at him. "You're gonna think I'm crazy.."_

 _"Yeah? Try me. 'Cause right now I think you're one of the most stable people I ever met.'_

 _She smiled weakly at him. "That hope that I have that I'm gonna get a second shot at having a child one day, children, a family, there's just this gut feeling that goes along with it. One that echoes in my heart and soul. I believe that when I meet the man that's supposed to happen with, that somehow, I'll just know. And I'll wait forever if I have to, because I'm not wasting my time with the wrong person. I won't let someone that doesn't deserve it ever have my heart again. And I know...I know people can change and you can misread people and sometimes it's hard to know who someone really is. But I spent a lot of time going back over things in my head. Going over warning signs with Ed I should have seen. I've spent so much time reading people the last six and a half years I've worked at this diner...And I think I've gotten pretty good at telling the good people from the bad. That's why I reached out to you yesterday...That's why I'm trying to help you now. Your eyes, they say so much about you...I saw hurt, I saw anger, I saw pain, but I didn't see a bit of malice or spite in them. Not an ounce of evil. More than anything, I saw loneliness, someone who's lost...And like I told you, I can relate to that."_

 _"Carol...What ya went through, that don't even compare to my brother going to prison."_

 _"No...it doesn't...But who am I to judge how you deal with what you're going through? Who am I to diminish your struggle? We all go through different things...That doesn't mean anyone is more deserving of a little help than another." She paused, turning her body slightly so they were face to face. "And I think that you've been dealt a bad hand...That you've probably got more on your plate than what happened with your brother and how people see you because of him...But that's okay. You don't have to tell me all that right now." She reached in front of her and grabbed the piece of paper she'd handed him before. "Stay here, Daryl. Just until you figure things out. Until you find something that gives you hope."_

 _***End of Flashback***_

Tears still falling, Sophia's blanket still clutched to her chest, Carol forced herself into a sitting positon from where she'd collapsed onto her side in the bed. She took a deep breath and set the blanket down, getting ready to gather all of the items up and put them away. At the bottom of the drawer, another small photo album caught her eye. A smile that fell on trembling lips lined her face as she reached for it. Flipping it open, the first thing she saw was Sophia's first sonogram. She'd been five weeks pregnant at the time. She flipped through the rest of the sonograms, her heart aching a little more as her baby's features grew more and more prominent in each one. Images of what she pictured her daughter would look like today filled her mind. For some reason she didn't understand, the child always had blond hair, despite Ed's dark hair and Carol's own auburn hair color. Freckles along ivory skin. A memory that wasn't quite a memory, but lived so vividly in her mind.

Flipping to the last page of the photo album, warmth spread through her chest, after all those years it was still there. Aged, cracked even, yet still there. A single flower, a white Cherokee rose. She traced the edges of the decayed flower that was pressed into the page, covered in protective plastic, and she smiled faintly. A broken, yet hopeful smile, as she remembered how she got that flower.

 _****The same day, two hours later at the diner****_

 _Daryl hadn't had time to respond to Carol's request that he stay. Her manager and co-workers had started piling in to start their shift and prep the diner before he could give her his answer. She'd had to end the conversation to start her shift, too. "Think about it and don't leave without telling me," She'd told him, slipping out of her booth, gathering up their mess, and heading for the kitchen. She was working kitchen duty that day, and she'd been hoping like crazy he hadn't booked up while she was at work. Her mind hadn't been focused on her work at all, as much as she hated to admit it. Her heart was in a strange place after their conversation this morning. A familiar ache for her daughter lingered and this unfounded concern for this stranger she was growing so connected to after such a short time of knowing him._

 _"Carol," Francine called out to her as she was tossing some onion rings in the deep fryer._

 _Carol looked up at her older co-worked, "Huh?"_

 _"Romeo's here to see you," she chuckled, "and he brought you a flower."_

 _Her stomach did a flip flop and filled with butterflies, wondering if he was about to walk out of her life forever and feeling so confused at his gesture of a flower._

 _"You gonna stand there looking dumbfounded or are you gonna go take a break and see the boy?"_

 _Carol hesitantly glanced down at the deep fryer as the onion rings fizzled and bubbled in the grease._

 _"Go!" The older woman insisted. "I'll take care of that. Just come right back. No more than five minutes."_

 _Carol nodded and scurried off to find Daryl, he was waiting for her in the same booth from last night. Their booth. He was shaking his leg and he had something in his mouth. "Hey," Carol announced, slipping in front him, not able to hide the hint of nervousness in her voice._

 _Daryl chewed at the toothpick in his mouth, muttering out a, "hey," in response. He pushed a Sweetwater beer bottle in front of her, one that contained a single, white flower. He nodded to it. "Went for a walk in the woods behind the motel. Needed to clear my head. Think about what to do next. Came across this old farm house and I noticed this growing...Made me think about ya"_

 _She arched her brows in confusion. "A flower?"_

 _"Mhm...A Cherokee Rose...Ya ever heard the story?"_

 _She slowly shook her head no, her nerves not dissipating, but her curiosity peaking._

 _His voice grew soft and tender when he spoke, no hint of the gruffness he'd had in it yesterday."Story is, when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the trail of tears, the Cherokee mother's were grieving and crying so much "cause they were losing their little ones along the way from exposure, disease, starvation. A lot of 'em just disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer, asked for a sign to uplift the mother's spirits, to give them strength and hope. The next day this rose started to grow where the mother's tears fell." Daryl saw her eyes start water. He cleared his throat and pushed the bottle towards her. "I saw it, and after what ya told me...What ya went through...Well, I believe this one bloomed for your little girl. Thought ya should have it."_

 _Carol wiped a tear out of each corner of her eye. Feeling beyond moved at his words. "Thank you. That's a beautiful story."_

 _Daryl nodded and reached into the pocket of his frayed, worn jeans, retrieving the application she'd given him earlier. He slowly unfolded it and passed the crumpled paper to her._

 _She glanced over it, her eyes beaming. "You're staying?" Her voice was almost giddy._

 _Daryl hummed at her. "Yeah...Think I might've found something that gives me hope."_

 _***End of Flashback***_

 **I know I stole that part right from the show. But good Lord, I've been wanting to find a way to actually appropriately use that in a fic for so long. It's the moment my shipper heart was born.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**

 **To the reviewer who wants to know more about the man who saved Carol, I will touch on that before I end this story.**

The entire drive home Daryl felt like a dick for exploding on Rick the way he did in the parking lot. He knew deep down that his friend had only meant well and that he thought he was saying the right thing at the time. But the truth was, there was no right thing to say.

There was no magic wand anyone could wave that would allow him to get his wife pregnant and give them the baby they wanted.

And he was sick and fucking tired of their friends trying to shine a glimmer of light on the situation. All the "I'm sure it'll happen one day's," and the "You have to be patient and have faith's," or worst of all, "Are you absolutely sure you've done everything you can? There's gotta be more they can do or something new you can try." Then there was the pity. Someone's weak attempt at thinking they understood how in the hell you felt when they'd never experienced anything like it. "We know how hard this must be for you." Rick had said that earlier, along with that positive little attitude. What a crock of shit.

Normally the comments would hurt or strike a nerve with him, but he could brush them off. He could remind himself that these people loved him and Carol and just wanted to be there for them. Rick, Lori, Maggie, Glenn, Tara, Andrea, Michonne and her husband. They were saying things out of love and because they thought they needed to or should say something.

But he couldn't deal with it today. He was at his breaking point. He didn't know how many more negative test results he had in him. How many more times he could hold it together while he watched her heart break over this, while his own heart was breaking too.

So he'd lashed out. He'd given Rick a tiny taste of what he'd been feeling. And as bad as he felt for it, he'd needed it. He'd had to get all that off his chest. He couldn't bare to say it to Carol, but he'd needed to unload all of it on someone.

Ever since she'd told him her gut-wrenching story in the diner on only the second day he'd known her, he'd known how much it meant to her to have another child some day. Children. A family.

Not that it would ever replace the child she lost or the make up for the hell she'd gone through, nothing ever could. But it was something she'd wanted, something she'd set her sights on to find a reason to keep going.

She deserved a husband who loved and cherished her, who put her wants and needs above everything. Who treated her like a queen. And though he wasn't perfect, far from it even, he'd done his damndest to be the best husband he could be to her over the last 9 years. Even before he married her, he'd done his best to do right by her and put her above everything else.

After all she'd gone through, what she survived, she deserved the best.

She deserved a baby. She deserved all the babies she wanted.

Michonne's girls, Colette and Elodie, they adored her when they were growing up. Always begging to go spend the night with her. And even though both girls were grown and in college now, they still loved to come visit Carol. She still had a special relationship with them.

And Carl and Judith? There was no question about how much they loved Carol. They spent the night with her and Daryl at least once a month. Little Judith's face would light up whenever Carol entered the room, she'd squeal and toddle off to her, lunging into her arms. For Carl to be a 12 year old boy, he still loved for Carol to spend time with him. He liked to help her bake cookies, even more, he liked to eat all those damn cookies. And he liked to pick vegetables in their garden with her. Help her shell peas or shuck corn.

She just had a way with kids. She was caring, patient, and nurturing, but she still knew how to make them mind and do as she said.

He didn't have half as much confidence in his own capabilities of being a father. But he'd learn if he was ever given the chance. He'd do everything he could to be the best daddy possible.

His chest heaved as he remembered the day he found out that chance might not ever be a possibility.

 _***Roughly 2 years ago****_

 _They'd been trying to have a baby for 3 years. 3 years without any sign of success in sight._

 _Carol had gone to the doctor the year before. She'd convinced herself after all the trying they'd done that something was wrong with her. That all those years ago when Ed took her little girl from her, that something had gone wrong and he'd done irreparable damage. That he'd taken away her chance at being a mother for good. Even though after she lost her little girl all those years ago, doctors had told her that she shouldn't have a problem conceiving again. She was convinced something had gone wrong, that they missed something._

 _But after countless tests, they assured them both that Carol was fine. Perfectly healthy and capable of conceiving and carrying another child. "Maybe it's just stress," they'd said. "Try and relax. Give it a little more time. I'm sure it'll happen when you least expect it."_

 _Another year passed and they still didn't have a baby. And it damn sure wasn't for lack of trying. Their sex life was popping, even before they'd deciding it was time to start having a baby, they still "practiced" regularly. They'd always had an active sex life. So it wasn't a chore or a problem to do it as often as possible in an attempt to create a life together._

 _They'd gone through the practice of tracking her cycle and her most fertile days, buying ovulation strips, keeping track of her temperature. All of that. And they'd made sure to try and make love at least twice on those days they found she was most fertile. Once before work, once at night. Hell, occasionally they'd even get in a quickie on their lunch break._

 _Still, nothing._

 _No baby._

 _But that still didn't help take the shock out of his system when Carol's OB/GYN had made a startling suggestion at her yearly check up._

 _His brows had furrowed and his voice took a sharp edge to it. "Ya think something's wrong with me? That my plumbing's broke and I can't get my wife pregnant?"_

 _"That's not what I said, Daryl," Dr. Cloyd explained calmly. "I merely suggested seeing a specialist as an option that some couples choose to do after struggling with more than a year of infertility. Which, may I point out, Carol already did last year. I just thought you two might find that option helpful. You don't have to. It's entirely up to both of you. I just thought it might be an option at this point."_

 _()()()_

 _The ride home had been silent. Daryl had never once considered the fact that something might be wrong with him. That he might not be able to give his wife a baby. When he pulled Carol's jeep under their carport and switched the car in park, he paused before removing the keys from the ignition. He turned to face his wife. "Ya think..Ya think she's right? That this is my fault?"_

 _Carol brought a hand up to the side of his face, running her thumb in a circle under his chin. "No. I don't think it's your fault. We don't have to go. It's okay." She knew Daryl didn't do doctors. Period. He hated going. He'd almost cut the tip of his index finger off four years ago at work with a pair of tin snips. He'd bandaged it tight as he could and gone right back to work and finished the job. When he'd gotten home that night she made him take it off so she could clean it and she gasped at the mangled, bloody mess that was his finger. She'd had to drag him kicking and screaming to the emergency room so they could sow it up and get him on antibiotics. This, their struggle with conceiving, it was a much more personal matter and she didn't see him readily agreeing to it. And she wasn't going to push him into it._

 _He gnawed at his bottom lip. "But do ya want me to?"_

 _She pursed her lips together and shook her head. "Daryl..."_

 _"Just tell me, Carol. Do ya think I should go?"_

 _She sighed and reached out to grab both of his hands with hers. "I think it'd be nice to rule things out. To know for sure what we're dealing with. And if there is a problem, to see if we could get help. She said they're are options for a lot of issues with male infertility. But I'm not gonna make you go. If you don't want to, you don't have to. We just keep trying, like we've been doing. And we try until we get it right."_

 _His pressed his forehead to hers. "I wanna give ya a baby. I want that with ya. Little person in ya that's half me and half of ya."_

 _"I know you do. And we'll have that. It'll happen." She ran her fingers through his hair._

 _"But it hasn't yet and it's been 3 years." He pulled away and met her eyes. "Call her. Tell her to make me an appointment."_

 _"Are you sure?"_

 _"Yeah...If they can tell us something...If they can help us make this happen, then let's try it."_

 _()()()_

 _Three weeks later they'd gone to meet with a specialist named Dr. Harlan._

 _He'd asked Daryl a series of invasive questions. "Do you smoke? Do you drink? Do you use recreational drugs? How often do you masturbate? How often do you and your wife have sex? Any history of STD's? Are you having sex outside of your marriage? If so, how often? Do you wear restrictive underwear? How often do you exercise? Are you on any medications? Have you ever had any surgeries? Do you have any children from a previous relationship?"_

 _After the barrage of questions, they made him go into this tiny, white room and jerk off into a cup. Which had been one of the most awkward experiences of his life. He'd even asked if Carol could come give him a hand to help moves things along, knowing good and damn well how hard it was gonna be to a bust a nut knowing all those people were just sitting there waiting on him to do it._

 _In addition to that lovely experience, the doctor had also conducted a physical examination and ran some bloodwork to rule out any other problems._

 _Days later, he was sitting in Dr. Harlan's office with Carol waiting on the man to come in with the results. And he was a nervous wreck. Both legs shaking violently, elbows on his knees, Carol gently stroking his back._

 _"Calm down. We don't even know if something's wrong yet. I got all worked up myself for nothing and I turned out to be fine," she tried to assure him._

 _"But we don't know it's not either. I just...What if I can't? What if I can't give ya a baby?"_

 _"Then we'll deal with it. And I'll still love you just as much as I did the day I married you, as much as I do now, as much as I always will."_

 _His legs stopped jerking and he nodded to her. She extended her hand to him and he gladly took her hand in his. Feeling the calm spread through his body as she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze._

 _"Sorry I took so long," Dr. Harlan announced as the door opened and he entered his small office to join them. He took a seat behind the desk and rummaged through the papers in his hand._

 _Daryl could feel his stomach sinking before the man even said a word. There was a look on his face. A look of pity and regret. "What's wrong with me?" He said before the doctor even had a chance to dive into all of his medical jargon._

 _"Daryl," Carol hissed. "He hasn't even said anything yet." She turned her attention to Dr. Harlan. "Tell him nothing's wrong. He's over reacting. We just need to keep trying. It'll happen eventually."_

 _Her own voice cracked with her words and Daryl knew she'd read his expression too._

 _Dr. Harlan offered Carol a genuinely apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Dixon. I can't tell you that. Your husband's right. There is a problem."_

 _She looked to Daryl, her face falling. More out of heartbreak for him than the actual news that there was going to be a stumbling block in the way of conceiving a child. "What? What is it?"_

 _"Mr. Dixon," Dr. Harlan cleared his throat, "you're suffering from an issue called low sperm motility. Sperm motility refers to the ability of a man's sperm to swim properly. What that means is, the sperm simply aren't able to reach the egg, often barely passing the vaginal canal, not coming anywhere near the fallopian tubes where they need to be in order to fertilize the egg. The normal range to allow fertilization to occur is around 50% motility, or above. Today, you're at 30%." He grabbed one of the papers in his hand. "Your other parameters, they looked fine. Your sperm count itself is in the normal range and their morphology appears to be just fine, meaning the sperm themselves are shaped normally. Your sperm just lack the ability to propel themselves to the egg."_

 _Daryl's legs began to rapidly shake once again and his free hand that wasn't holding Carol's rubbed the stubble on his chin "Okay...Well fix it. Make 'em swim right. Whatever we gotta do, let's do it. What ya got? A pill or something? Give it to me."_

 _"I'm afraid it's not always that simple," he informed them. "Now, stress can be a contributing factor. As well as smoking, caffeine intake, wearing restrictive underwear, and nutrition. I know you said you're a smoker. So let's cut that out. You said you wear boxer briefs, switch to boxers. Try to eat foods that are high in vitamin C and vitamin B 12, even start taking vitamins if you need to. You can even try certain sexual positions to try and help the sperm move along. Doggy style, for lack of a better word, then there's always Missionary."_

 _"And that'll help?" Carol asked. "If we make those changes, if we have sex a certain way each time, it increases our chances of getting pregnant?"_

 _"It's where we start. But to be completely honest, the closer motility is to 50%, the more likely a man is to conceive a child with those changes."_

 _"So there ain't a damn thing you can do?" Daryl growled. "Ain't you a fucking doctor? Ain't it your job to help us?"_

 _"I know this a lot to take in ,Mr. Dixon, but you need to calm down. I'm going to help you the best I can. Your sperm, it's constantly being replenished. Your parameters can change often. That's why I want to repeat these tests in a few weeks, after you've enacted these lifestyle changes. And even if doing the first steps, the most simple things don't work, there are other options. Assuming none of those suggestions help, the next step would be Intrauternine Insemination, or IUI."_

 _"The fuck is that?"_

 _"Daryl, stop," Carol warned. Though he was wonderful to her, kind and patient, attentive and loving. He didn't always extend those manners to other people. Especially when he was upset. "It's not his fault. He's just trying to help."_

 _Daryl pulled his hand away from hers. "Nah, it ain't. It's mine. My damn fault we ain't ever gonna have a baby"_

 _"It's no one's fault," Dr. Harlan interrupted. "A lot of times there isn't even a medical explanation to explain this condition. And in your case, I feel like that's what's going on. Your hormone levels are normal, there's no obstruction, you're perfectly healthy overall. You have options. Let me go over all of them with you."_

 _"Go ahead," Carol told him. "I wanna hear them."_

 _"Like I was saying, "he continued, "IUI is an articual insemination method that introduces a man's sperm, your husband's sperm, directly into your uterus, reducing the amount of swimming it has to do to reach the egg. We've seen some success with this option with couples struggling with the same problem."_

 _Daryl glared at the doctor. "But not always?"_

 _"No. Not always. But if that isn't successful the fist time, we like to try it at least two more times, and if still fails, we can do more. There's also In Vitro Fertilization, or IVF, where an egg from your wife would be fertilized with your sperm in a lab setting and then later the embryo would be implanted into your wife's uterus. This option increases chances of pregnancy greatly with many couples struggling with various cases of infertility, including low motility."_

 _"And if that don't work?" Daryl challenged. "Then what?"_

 _"If all of your other options are exhausted," Dr. Harlan began carefully, "and it was something you were both on board with, then we would take into consideration the fact that your wife is fertile and you may wish to pursue pregnancy with the help of a sperm donor."_

 _"No!" Carol snapped. "No. That's not an option. I want a baby with my husband."_

 _Dr. Harlan held his hands up in defeat. "And that's perfectly fine. Not all couples choose to go that route, nor do they have to. Let's just...Let's start simple for now and go from there."_

 _()()()_

 _And so they'd done what the doctor suggested. He'd cut back on cigarettes, eliminated all caffeine, switched to boxers, started taking vitamins, restricted their sex life to the positions Harlan suggested. Then, they'd gone back to the doctor and they ran the tests all over again._

 _But the results weren't any better. In fact, they were worse. His motility had unexpectedly decreased to 23%. The doctor's explanation was that it could have been related to the stress Daryl was feeling as a result of learning about his fertility issues. Motility could fluctuate. It was even possible they'd get an entirely different result next time when they repeated this process in a few weeks. One that could be lower or even higher than the 30% he'd tested at last time._

 _After another test revealing his motility levels to be at 29%, t_ _hey decided to move forward with IUI and they even gave him some pills they said "might" help increase motility. But IUI wasn't successful either and those pills hadn't brought his numbers up. In fact, once again, they'd decreased. This time reading at 17%._

 _He recommended repeating the test and trying IUI again. And they did, though they had to save up their money for the next two months, cutting corners here and there to help pay for it._

 _But the IUI failed a second time, and then a third. And the doctor finally admitted since his motility count had dropped below 30%, and was staying low, that it wasn't likely IUI would work for them. Which, in all honesty, Daryl wouldn't have been able to keep paying for, even if there was a chance it could work._

 _Insurance didn't help cover fertility treatments for them. All these doctor visits, and pills, and treatments, it was all out of pocket. And they had a mortgage. Carol had the overhead from the cafe' she and her friend Tara owned together. They had a car payment. They couldn't go broke trying to have a kid. What the hell were they supposed to do once the kid got here and they couldn't afford it? Once they didn't have a house for it to live in or a car to drive it around in because they spent all that money trying to conceive it? Once they didn't have two incomes to support it because Carol's café went under?_

 _That's why the doctor's next suggestion hadn't even been an option for them. He said it was time to proceed with IVF. That it was most likely their only option. But that was ten times more expensive than a single treatment of IUI. They didn't have that kinda money laying around. He'd have done it if they did. If they were better off. If he had a better job. If it was possible, he'd have made it work. But they just couldn't afford it. And even if he went and took out a loan for it, there was no guarantee it would work the first time. It didn't always work. And both he and Carol agreed they simply couldn't take that risk._

 _Daryl remembered Carol looking that doctor in the dead in his eyes, he remembered her saying, "is there even a chance we can have this baby naturally?" It was like she was almost daring him to tell her there wasn't._

 _"Well, I can't say there isn't a chance, Mrs. Dixon," Harlan replied. "You only need one sperm to reach an egg for conception to take place. And he has some motility. He's not stuck at 0%. As of yet, he hasn't reached over 30%, but I can't say his motility won't increase one day. I can't say for sure you won't have a baby through natural means," I ceretainly don't think you should stop trying," a sympathetic look washed over his face, "But I can't look you two in the eye and tell you that you will. I personally believe that IVF is your strongest option at conceiving a child. That, or, a sperm donor."_

 _"But there's a chance," she repeated, keeping her eyes locked on Harlan's, then looking Daryl dead in the eye to emphasize her point._

 _Except, he couldn't make himself believe it. He was with the doctor on this one. That IVF thing? It probably was their best shot. But he didn't even believe it would've worked at this point, even if they'd been able to do it._

 _After four years and seven months of trying, after exhausting all means possible to them, he simply couldn't tell himself that it would happen anymore. He couldn't keep getting his hopes up. He couldn't give his wife a baby. He couldn't do the one thing he was supposed to be able to do as her husband. As a man. And that was just a gut-wrenching, heart-breaking fact he was gonna have to live with._

 _****End of Flashback****_

Daryl pulled into his driveway, parking his truck in the same spot he always did under that big oak tree in their front yard. Their carport was only big enough for one car, and since Carol's Cherokee was a hell of a lot newer, they always kept it there.

He slid the truck in park and hopped out, gathering the grocery bags in one hand and making his way to the front door. He paused to look at the reef hanging on it. He couldn't help but smile, knowing she'd made it just for him. It was made out of shot gun shells, with a a tan bow at the top decorated with deer and trees. In the middle was a small, black, wooden board, that had the words Happy Hunting painted on it in red and a a red and white target to the left of those words. Carol had hung it up the day deer season started, knowing it was Daryl's favorite time of year.

They might not have a baby, and that did leave a huge hole in both their hearts, but damn if they didn't have a good marriage.

Most people would've let something like this tear them apart. But not them.

As much as Daryl blamed himself and struggled with their infertility issues, she'd always let him know she didn't see it as his fault. That she didn't hold it against him for the struggle they'd been through. That there was no one she'd rather be with than him, even if that meant it took longer than expected to have a child.

And she'd always been adamant that if she got pregnant, she wanted it to be with _their_ baby. Never once considering the doctor's option of using a sperm donor. Even when Daryl himself brought it up to her after the last failed attempt at IUI and the less than happy meeting with the doctor that occurred afterwards. He'd even mentioned asking Rick or Glenn if she wasn't comfortable carrying a stranger's child . He told her if it meant she got to have a baby, he'd be fine with it. That he'd love that child just as much as he would if it was genetically his, because it'd be hers. It'd be a part of her.

But she didn't want that. She said she wanted to wait for it to happen for them.

She wanted a child that was half her and half him.

Though part of him believed she thought it would be too hard on him to see her carry a child she'd created with another man. Knowing he couldn't create that life with her himself. To watch that child grow and start to look like Carol, but not being able to see himself in it. And truthfully, it probably would've been. And now he was glad she'd said no. That was the thing about her, sometimes she knew him and what he needed better than he did himself.

He slowly made his way inside his house and found Carol sitting on the couch, reading a book. She was in a pair of pajama's with the robe she'd had on this morning securely tied around her. When she looked up at him her eyes were red and puffy, and he quickly set the groceries on the kitchen table and made his way beside her. "What's wrong? Were ya puking again?"

She shook her head and set the book down on the coffee table. "No. I haven't done that since you left for work. In fact, I feel much better than I did this morning."

His brows crinkled. "Well, what's wrong then? Were ya crying?"

She nodded. "I was just thinking about Sophia. She'd be 18 this year. You know?"

He did know. He knew her due date. He knew the day Ed took her from Carol. He knew them both by heart. And on each day, he tried his damndest to find a single Cherokee rose and bring it to her in memory of her little girl. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her forehead. "I know, sweetheart."

"You're gonna get sick," she warned him.

"Yeah?" He leaned in and placed soft kiss on her lips. "I think I'll take my chances."

She smiled up at him, her head falling on his chest, her arms wrapping low around his waist.

"Besides," he pointed out. "After what we did last night before ya start up-chucking, I'm doomed anyway."

She chuckled. "I suppose so. It's crazy how good I felt last night before bed."

"Mhm." He kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "Ya hungry? I can put some soup on for ya."

"Actually, yeah. I am."

"I got veggie and chicken noddle. Which one ya want? I'll eat the other."

Carol hummed, tapping her chin as she contemplated her answer. "I've got a craving for veggie right now. Hey, did you get bananas, too?"

"Yep. Got everything on the list."

She paused, pushing herself up off of him and meeting his eyes. "Everything?" She asked carefully.

Daryl scrapped his lower lip with his teeth and nodded. "Everything."

"Thank you."

He rested forehead on hers. "Welcome." He whipped his feet off of the coffee table and moved to stand up.

"You know?" She teased. "I feel special that you're cooking for me. You better watch out or I might get used to it and expect it all the time."

Daryl snored. "You'd be lucky to get my cooking every night. You know I can cook good. I worked in the kitchen at that diner six months. Mighty fine chef if I do say so myself."

She bit back a laugh. "Yeah, right. I seem to remember a massacre of chicken nuggets, French fries, and onion rings that first week you were there. You're lucky you didn't burn the place down."

()()()

After they'd eaten, they'd both decided to relax and take a hot bath. Daryl was normally a shower kinda guy, but as tired as he was, soaking in a hot tub felt damn good. He kissed the side of Carol's neck as they lay in the water relaxing. "Glad you're feeling better."

"Mmmm. Me too." She arched her neck as he continued to trail kisses along her skin. "Stop it," she giggled.

"What? Ya don't like it?"

"I _do_ like it. I just don't feel like fooling around tonight."

He pulled away. "Thought ya felt better?"

"I do. Much better than I did. I just still feel really tired and my head hurts a bit."

"Take something for it?"

"I did. Hasn't completely eased off, though." She leaned up, the water sloshing around them. "I think I'm gonna get out. You gonna keep soaking?"

He nodded. "For a minute."

Carol toweled off and pulled on a pair of clean pajama bottoms and one of Daryl's t-shirts. She turned to look at her husband. "I wanna take one of those tests."

He lifted his head from where he'd been relaxing it on the back of the tub, popping his eyes open and staring at her. He swallowed, his saliva thick and sticky. "If that's what ya want."

She nodded and grabbed a single test from underneath the bathroom sink, where she'd placed all three after they'd come in here for their bath.

Daryl pulled the plug on the tub as she started to carefully open the box and pull the test out. He stood up, water dripping off of his form, his entire body feeling numb and heavy. Grabbing a towel off of the towel rack, he started to dry off as he turned his back while Carol went to pee on the stick. When he was dry, he pulled on a clean pair of boxers and hopped up onto the counter beside the sink. When Carol was done with the test, she placed it on the other side of the counter and leaned into his embrace as they waited the agonizingly long three minutes.

Daryl held her like that the entire three minutes they waited, his arms wrapped around her, her head resting on his chest, listening to the rapid pound of his heart beat steadily ticking away beneath his sternum. Finally, she gathered the courage to peek out from the security of his embrace and to the other side of the counter. She shook her head somberly as she saw the all too familiar sight of a single pink line, her body shook and her head fell back onto his chest. "It's negative," she muttered, choking back the disappointment, choking back the urge to cry.

"I'm sorry," he told her, his own voice unsteady, gently rubbing her back in an effort to comfort her.

"No...I'm sorry," she cried. "I should've known better, I shouldn't have asked you to pick that up. I just, I had a feeling. It felt different this time when I woke up in the middle of the night. It felt different all day. In my gut. In my heart. As unlikely as I know it is...It just felt different this time. Like it did with..."

He didn't know what to say, so he held her tighter.

"I even missed my period two days ago," she continued, her voice threatening to crack. "I didn't tell you because I know it didn't necessarily mean anything. I know I'm late sometimes and the doctor said it's from stress...But I just...I really thought it might be it for us this time with me being sick and all on top of it. I wanted it to be different this time."

He ran his hand through the back of her hair. His voice soft and gentle. "I know ya did...I know ya did. I wish it was, too. I'm so sorry. Wish more than anything I could give ya a baby." His voice quaked and he bit back a sob. He glanced next to him, on the other side of the counter, shooting a longing glance in the direction of the pregnancy test. He squinted his eyes as the faint hint of something very unfamiliar caught his eyes.

"I'm not gonna put us through this again," she said, "it's too much. It's not fair to either of us..."

"Carol!"

"I mean it," she continued, "I'm sorry I put you through picking this up today. I know that must have.."

"Carol!"

"You don't have to say it's okay anymore, you don't have to pretend.."

His heart threatened to leap out of his chest and he reached beside him, snatching the test up in one hand and gingerly pushing her off of where she'd burrower herself into his chest with the other. "No, Carol, look! He held the test in front of her. "It's never done that before. Not ever."

Her hand flew over her mouth and she gasped as her eyes landed on the test. Beside the prominent, pink control line a very faint second line was appearing. Chills shot throughout her entire body and her heart fell into her stomach. "Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!"

Daryl's thumb was at the side of his mouth, his cuticle being gnawed away as he waited for her to give some confirmation to what he thought that meant. What it _had_ to mean. " _Is_ it? Are ya? Are we?"

Flailing the test around in her hand she squealed, "I...I don't know. That's...that's a positive. You see it, right? That's a thin, pink line right where positive is supposed to be."

He nodded, not tearing his thumb away from his mouth. His voice rapid and high pitched. "Take another one. I bought more than one. Take another one. See if it does the same thing."

"But...I don't have to pee right now."

"Well...go anyway!"

"I can't! I can't go on command."

"Ya need some water? Tea? Sprite, GingerAle? Tell me what ya wanna drink and I'll go get it. Shit, I'll go make ya all the coffee ya can drink if it'll help ya take a piss."

She let out a small laugh at his eagerness, at the beautiful, almost long forgotten, sound of hope in his voice. Glancing at the test again, seeing the faint, pink line, she knew. She knew just as well as she'd known the day she found out she was pregnant with Sophia, that it was right. This was it, she was pregnant. They were gonna have a baby. She planted a hand on his chest and met his eyes. "I'll take another test, Daryl. We'll go fix a few glasses of water and I'll come back in here and I'll pee on both of those sticks that are under the counter," she held the test out to him and smiled, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, "but this is it. You're gonna be a daddy. I'm gonna be a mommy. We're finally gonna have our baby."


	6. Chapter 6

Three glasses of water and thirty minutes later, Carol and Daryl were in the bathroom again waiting on the result of the other two tests. Daryl was anxiously pacing the floor, eyes trained on the square, blue tiles, one hand rubbing the bottom of his chin. Carol was leaning against the countertop, appearing as calm as could be on the outside, though her heart was thundering in her chest and she was giddy with anticipation.

The oven timer, which she'd brought into the bathroom with them and set for three and a half minutes, dinged and stopped Daryl in his tracks. He looked to his wife, a mix of hope and wonder shown in his eyes, with a slight tinge of fear that the world was about to sweep the rug out from under them and firmly plant them on their asses. Like that faint line from before could be some cruel cosmic joke, something he wasn't willing to trust as easily as she was.

Carol titled her head at him, her voice serine. "Do you want me to look or are you gonna do it?"

"Do it together?" He suggested, his thumb once again resigning itself to the corner of his mouth.

She nodded and held her hand out to him, which he eagerly took. Giving it a tight squeeze, she stepped forward and led them both to the other end of the counter. She peered down at both tests, tests she'd taken back to back.

Daryl closed his eyes and stepped behind her, winding his arms low around her waist, and resting his chin on her shoulder. He was scared to open them at first, not unconvinced that this could be the biggest let down of his life. But he felt Carol's hand squeeze the one he had resting over her belly and he heard her emit some strangled sound out of the back of her throat. His eyes popped open, flitting straight to both tests. And there it was, plain as day, just as it had been on that first test taken thirty minutes before. A faint, pink line right next to that bold, pink control. Both new tests reading exactly the same.

Carol felt her heart swell, swell so big she actually thought it might burst out her chest from the sheer joy she was feeling. All these years, all those hopes and dreams they'd had, all the prayers they'd prayed, the nights she'd cried, the times Daryl had held her in his arms for comfort, all the while pushing back his own tears, his feelings of guilt and unworthiness. All of that culminated into this moment, this immensely over-whelming, triumphant moment that confirmed they were pregnant. They were going to have a child. Their child. "See. It's positive," she whispered, with an unbreakable smile etched on her face, "We're having a baby."

Daryl's face fell into the crook of her shoulder and he tightened his grip around her waist. With a shaky breath, he lifted his head. Placing a kiss, first on her cheek, then on her neck, then on the small area of skin around her clavicle showing through the neck-line of his shirt that she was wearing that swallowed her small frame. "Holy shit. We're having a baby. Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!," With each exclamation his voice only grew louder and filled with more emotion. His large hand circled her flat stomach, "Ya got a baby in there." He kissed her cheek again, a loud smooching sound filling the small room as his lips connected with her ivory skin. "Our baby's in there. We did that. We did! Me and you!" He was light headed and dizzy, his skin tingled. And though he hadn't been in eleven years, he felt drunk. High even.

She maneuvered herself in his arms so that she was turned towards him, face to face. She cupped each side of his face in her hands and pulled him for a kiss. One full of passion and love and celebration. When she pulled away she was grinning from ear to ear, his face still clutched in her hands. She nodded at him. Her own heady experience taking over her body and mind. "We did. We made this." She took his hand that was now resting on her hip and placed it over her belly. "I knew we would."

His forehead rested on hers, his breath coming in ragged from the intense flood of emotions he was feeling. His heart would speed up and slow down simultaneously. "Thank ya," he mumbled.

She chuckled, her arms finding a resting spot around his neck. "You played a pretty big role in this, too, you know?

"No. Not..Not for that. I mean, yeah for that, too. But...Thank ya for not giving up. For always believing it would happen. Even when, when sometimes I..." His voice trailed off and he couldn't finish, ashamed to admit to her he'd ever given up.

"It's okay," she told him softly. "I know. I know you blamed yourself and I know that in some ways this was all harder on you because of it. You had to turn it off. You couldn't handle the disappointment it brought with it each time. It's okay."

He nuzzled his forehead against hers. Once again moving his hand over her belly, almost in disbelief that this was finally real. "That's what I've always loved about ya," he confessed. "How hopeful ya are. How ya can always see the good in something. How ya don't give up. Ya gotta be the strongest person I ever met."

"No I'm not," she responded weakly.

"Ya are," he insisted. "And ya deserve this baby. More than anything. More than anyone ever has. And the fact that I can finally say I'm giving that to ya," he choked up, biting his bottom lip in an effort to steady his voice, though it didn't stop the tear that fell out of the corner of his eye. "Ya got no idea how happy it makes me. How much I can't wait to do this with ya. To raise this baby with ya. I'm gonna love the shit out of this kid."

She smiled at him, and she was sure she'd be smiling for the next week, if not for the rest of her life. Blissful tears trickled from her eyes and fell damply onto her cheeks. "I can't wait to raise this baby with you either. I knew it. I just knew it. I can't describe the feeling, but I knew."

"How far along are ya? Are we?"

She pulled away from him, wiping the corner of her eyes. She shrugged a shoulder and leaned back against the counter. "Not sure. You got the kind that tests early, so it could be as early as seven days. It could be a couple of weeks. I got my period on time last month. Not too far along, I wouldn't think anyway."

"Well, what do we do now? Do we need to go the doctor, check on things?"

"It's the weekend. They won't be able see me just yet. But I'll call Denise on her cell tomorrow. See if she wants to work me in Monday or if she wants to wait." Carol paused and when she met Daryl's eyes, she said, "I don't wanna tell anyone just yet. Not until our first appointment."

"Why!" He sounded panicked. "Ya think something's wrong? Ya think those tests were wrong?"

"Three positives in a row?" She shook her head. "Not unless they have a very defective batch." He still seemed worried so she took his hands in hers, having to pull the one away that was still resting on her belly. "I'm pregnant, Daryl. Don't worry. I'm very, very confident about that fact. And no, I don't think anything's wrong. I just want time to keep this to us. We'll have plenty of time to share this with our friends."

He nodded, but then realization crept up on him. "Denise is our doctor. She's gonna tell Tara." Tara, the girl who co-owned the Café with Carol and who she'd been friends with since working at the diner, had started dating Carol's gynecologist about a year ago.

"She won't if I ask her not to. She can't. It's a doctor-patient confidentiality thing."

"Alright. But I can't wait to start telling people," he grinned.

"You're a proud Papa, huh?"

He placed a gentle kiss on her lips and nodded. "Yep. And I can't wait to call and tell Dr. Harlan to suck it and that we didn't need his help no way."

***4 weeks later****

Denise had worked Carol in the following week, more or less to just confirm the pregnancy since they'd struggled so much with fertility. No sonogram's or initial tests were conducted that day, just a brief assessment of how Carol was feeling and a quick discussion of her last menstrual cycle.

She'd scheduled an appoint for the following month, where they'd conduct routine tests, go over what to expect, and one where they'd get to see their baby for the first time. Possibly even hear it's heartbeat.

As the days grew closer and closer to that appointment, Carol and Daryl both found that it was getting harder and harder to contain their little secret. A lot of it had to do with the sheer excitement and the need to share that with the people they loved. But there were other reasons as well. One being the fact that Carol had struggled with severe morning sickness and had to miss work several times. Tara became increasingly suspicious, and worried even, about how often Carol was calling in and having to work from home instead, focusing more on the financial aspect of the business. Rick and Lori also noticed something was up. They'd had to cancel keeping Carl and Judith a couple of times because Carol had been so tired and felt so awful after spending her mornings hugging the toilet. And Glenn hadn't missed how sluggish Daryl had been at work from the lack of sleep it was causing him.

They were both glad it was time for their first real appointment today, so they could finally let the cat out of the bag.

Denise paraded them through a round of questions focusing around family medical history. Daryl didn't know the answers to a lot of those questions, but as far as he knew, Dixon's didn't have a long list of physical ailments. Mental illness, he was sure that was rampant in his family. Undiagnosed, but rampant. ADD? Hell, he probably had that. He'd never been able to sit still or focus a day in his life.

Carol's family medical history was a bit more detailed. A cousin with down syndrome, a few cases of cancer here and there, a great aunt with MS. A few cousins with depression.

Next, they'd gone through her nutritional habits and Denise had advised her to start prenatal vitamins, particularly stressing the importance of finding one with folic acid in it or taking the supplement separately. She'd also been sure to stress to Daryl that he wasn't to get anywhere in Carol's vicinity with a cigarette, or she'd personally come after him.

She'd offered the option of different varieties of genetic testing to the couple, in case they wanted to pin-point early on if there were any issues with the pregnancy. Carol's age did increase the risk for certain complications and disabilities that could be passed on to the child, seeing as how she was over 35. Both Daryl and Carol had declined, knowing they wanted this baby no matter what. Knowing how long it had taken to conceive this child, it was a possibility they might not get another chance. The idea had especially turned them off when they learned certain tests increased the chance of miscarriage. They weren't taking that risk. They'd waited too long for this.

After a few routine tests, it was finally time for the sonogram.

Daryl was standing next to Carol as she lay back on the cold exam table, her belly fully exposed, covered with the ice cold, sticky gel that was needed to help the wand work it's magic and show them their baby for the first time.

"Alright," Denise smiled, waving the wand around Carol's belly, "are you ready to see baby Dixon?"

"More than ready!" Carol beamed.

Denise smiled and went to work, waving her wand and glancing at the computer screen and then to Carol's belly. "I still can't believe this is finally happening for you two. I'm so glad I get to be a part of this."

"We're glad you're a part of it," Carol told the woman, then looked over at Daryl whose eyes were glued on the computer screen.

Denise leaned up and clicked on the keyboard. "Okay, here's your baby," she pointed to the small, peanut-like image on the black and white screen.

Daryl squinted his eyes at the tiny blob, a blob that didn't much resemble a tiny person just let, but all the same he felt overcome with emotion and love for his unborn child.

Carol squeezed his hand and smiled up at him, feeling the same undeniable love for her unborn child. "Our little peanut. Can you believe it? That we're seeing him or her for the first time? Look how small he or she is right now."

"Baby D is about the size of a kidney bean right now," Denise chuckled. "We're estimating you at 8 weeks and four days. The little hands and feet are developing webbed fingers and toes, that tad-pole like tail is disappearing, nerve cells are branching out to connect with each other to form neural pathways in the brain, and though you can't feel it right now, he or she is constantly moving around inside of you."

Daryl was amazed that so much was going on right now, that this little life they created was thriving and growing inside of his wife. He stared at the screen in awe.

"I can't wait to feel the baby move," Carol smiled. "To feel him or her kick the first time. All this morning sickness, being tired all the time. It's worth it."

Denise smiled at the couple, watching Daryl simply stare in wonder at the screen. "Would you two like to hear the heartbeat?"

Daryl and Carol shared a look and nodded eagerly.

Denise moved to reposition the wand, then paused while looking at the screen as she circled it around Carol's belly. Holding the wand in place, she taped away at the computer.

Her expression wasn't readable, but Carol felt herself start to panic after the woman didn't say anything. "What's wrong? Is my baby okay?"

Denise held up a finger. "Everything is fine. Hang on a sec." She circled the wand once more, then did some more tapping.

Daryl was panicking even more, his stomach coiling into a painful knot. "Well, why ain't the we hearing the heartbeat? That's what ya said ya was doing. Why ya tapping away like that? What the hell's going on? Is our baby okay?"

With one last tap, Denise faced the couple. Raising both hands and placing them palms up in front of her, she told them, "I need you both to calm down. I do have something to tell you, but don't panic."

"You can't tell me something like that and tell me not panic!" Carol shouted.

Denise bit back a smile, working hard to remain stone-faced and professional, to not scream at the top of her lungs about what she knew. "Look at the screen. Does anything look different to you than it did just a second ago?"

Daryl squinted, eyes focusing heavily on the screen. "Yeah," he snorted. "Looks broke, there's two of 'em now."

Carol's hand clasped over her mouth, eyes wide as saucers, her gaze found Denise's and she pointed straight ahead. "Is that? Is that...Is it what I think it is?"

Denise nodded rapidly, letting out a squeal of delight.

"What the hell's going on?" Daryl demanded, panic still bubbling in his gut.

"We're not having _a_ baby, Daryl..."

"What!" He croaked, face falling and his voice threatening to break out into a sob.

"We're having two!" she quickly corrected before he had a nervous breakdown.

"Twins," Denise beamed. "You're having twins!"

Perplexed, completely over-whelmed, he looked to Carol, then Denise. "Ya shitting me here?"

"No. No shit is being thrown around here," Denise giggled. "There are two babies on that screen. Plain as day."

Daryl stared at the screen in disbelief. "Tw...Twins?" He held up two fingers. "Two of 'em." Pointing to Carol's belly, he said, "in there? Right now? Two babies? Not one?"

Carol's hands rested on either side of her still flat belly, being careful not to let them get covered in the sticky goo. "We're having twins," she said, her voice giddy and filled with excitement and utter disbelief. "We're gonna have twins! We're gonna get two babies!"

"But...I...How? How did that happen?"

"Um? Do you need an anatomy lesson, Daryl?" Denise chuckled. "I thought you were there when this happened?"

He scowled at her. "I was! But...Twins? I just...I don't get it. How?"

"Well, they can occur in one of two ways," she began to explain, "Identical twins result when a single fertilized egg splits and develops into two babies with identical genetic information. But that's not what happened in your case." She pointed to the screen. "Each baby is in their own gestational sac, which means your twins are fraternal. Carol's body released two eggs, which were fertilized by two separate sperm you provided. Each child will be genetically unique."

Daryl rubbed his chin with his index finger and thumb. "Let me process this. That doctor told me I couldn't make one baby on my own without dropping over ten grand?" Holding up a single finger, he repeated, "One! But without his help, or any damn body else's, I made, "he held up another finger, "two of 'em!"

"Well, your wife helped a lot," she chuckled, "but yes. You made two of them."

Carol, a worried look in her eyes, glanced up to Daryl. "You're okay with this aren't you? I mean...You want both of them, don't you?"

"Hell yeah!" He bent down and kissed her on the lips, when he pulled away he smiled at his wife. "I can't believe there's two of 'em in there." His hand landed high on her stomach, just above the cool gel.

"I can't either! I always felt sure we'd have one, but I never would have dreamed we'd be getting two at once."

He nodded, his eyes flitting down to the crotch of his pants, a proud look washing over him. "Guess when my boys finally decided to start moving, there was no stopping 'em."


	7. Chapter 7

Late that night, in the wee hours of the early morning, Carol and Daryl were laying in bed together and she found that she was still on cloud nine from the news they'd gotten earlier at the doctor. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Not from the restless longing that kept her up so often before that stemmed from trying so hard to conceive a child and failing for the millionth time, but from the sheer joy and excitement of knowing that their prayers had been answered. Knowing that they'd been given what they hoped so desperately for, and then some.

She rolled onto her side, wrapping her arms around her husband, spooning him from behind. She kissed the tattoo on his shoulder blade and nuzzled her head against his bare skin. "Are you awake?" She whispered, not wanting to drive him out of his slumber if he'd fallen asleep.

He moved his hand over hers and murmured, "Mhm. Ya feel sick or something?"

"No. Not at all. In fact, I feel better than I have in weeks. I just still can't believe this is all real."

He rolled over, swapping their positions so that now she was the little spoon and he was the big spoon. He let both hands fall over her belly and he kissed her temple. "Neither can I," he mumbled, his voice still sleep laden.

"Do you want me to stop talking so you can go back to sleep?"

"No, it's fine. Keep on talking. I'm listening."

She smiled, assuming he'd drift back off to dream land within minutes, but feeling chatty and jittery, she took him up on his offer to keep the conversation going. "I know we've been talking about this all day and we're both over the moon about it. I just, I don't know, I sorta feel like I'm scared to go to sleep, because if I wake up this is all gonna be some dream."

"Nuh uh," he mumbled, trailing kisses from her jawline to her neck. "Ya ain't gotta worry about that. This ain't no dream, sweetheart. There's two beautiful little babies inside ya. Babies we worked damn hard for. Babies we prayed for. Babies ya never stopped hoping and believing we'd have. And it's real. Very, very real. In 32 more weeks, give or take, we get to meet 'em and have the life we always talked about having." His large, rough, calloused hand slid underneath the thin material of her cotton tank top and rested protectively a top her smooth, flat stomach. "I love 'em already. Both of 'em. Crazy how I ain't even met 'em yet, but I'd do anything for 'em. These two and you, y'all are everything to me."

Carol's chest filled with warmth as she listened to him talk about their unborn children, about his love for not only them, but her. She covered his hands with hers, and said, "And you're everything to me. This life we've made together, these lives we made together," she smiled fondly to herself, "I never would have imaged happiness like this could exist. What we have together, what we've created, it's more than I ever could have hoped for.'

The corner of Daryl's lips turned up, he pulled his hand off of her belly and rolled so he was hovering over her. He gave her his goofiest, happiest grin, then leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her lips. With her tank top scrunched up, he began scooting down the bed until his head was level with her belly. He bent his head, placing a gentle kiss on either side of her belly, loving the sound of her quiet giggle as his prickly face tickled her soft skin. "Night babies, daddy loves ya." Scooting his way back up the bed, he wound his arms around Carol once again, pulling her flush against him.

****27 weeks and later****

Daryl always heard that you're life can change in a moment. In a split second, everything you've ever known could change and the life you once lived would be no more.

And in his now 34 years of life, he'd experienced a few of those split second, life-altering changes where the world and everything he knew seemed to come to a standstill. Where everything you think you know about life and yourself is put into perspective and challenged. Sometimes those moments were happy and joyful, other times they were pain-staking and gut-wrenching.

Dropping out of school, landing his first real job, moving out of his parents house, Merle being throw in prison, winding up at diner and meeting Carol, Carol making him decide to stay and take that job, four months after meeting her finally being able to reach a point in their friendship they knew they wanted so much more with each other, asking her to marry him 11 months later, actually getting married a little over a year after that, buying their first house and deciding that first night they spent together in that house that it was time to start trying for a family together, struggling with trying to make that goal a reality, hearing a doctor say it was more than likely not possible for him to ever give his wife that family they longed for, seeing that positive result on that pregnancy test for the first time, that first pre-natal appointment where they found out they were not only going to have one, but two children, finding out at five months gestation one of those children (baby B as the doctor called him) would be a son, (while baby A had kept their gender a secret the entire pregnancy), those had all been pivotal moments in his life.

For better or worse, each moment redefined who he was, changed him some way. Whether small or big, those moments opened his eyes and heart to where he saw and felt things in a different light.

But there was not a single moment that would ever compare to the moments his children had been born.

His life was forever, irreversibly changed at 2:15 a.m. and again at 2:19 a.m on that late, warm summer night when he officially became a father for the first time.

It had been love at first sight when he'd seen their little goo covered faces, cut their umbilical cords, watched them be placed on his wife's bare chest for the first time as she cried a mixture of tears born from pain and the absolutely exhilarating love she carried in heart for those two children. Seeing their tiny little heads root for her breasts. The feel of their small frames in his massive arms. Nothing ever could have prepared him for all of the emotions he experienced in that delivery room.

For the way it made him love his wife even more than he'd already thought possible for giving him these two children.

And yes, she was tired and exhausted after giving birth. Sleep deprived from twelve hours of labor and exhausted from carrying two children in her womb for 35 weeks, but Daryl swore she'd never been more beautiful to him than she was when he saw her holding both babies in her arms, smiling down at them with all the joy and pride and awe in the world.

His daughter had been born first. His already hard-headed and stubborn daughter who'd made them wait the entire duration of the pregnancy to find out whether or not she was a boy or girl. Weighing only 5 lbs. and 4 ounces and measuring at 18 inches long, she was born with a head full of auburn hair and rosy red cheeks, which were a result of her coming into the world kicking and screaming at the top of her little lungs. They'd named her Nadia Rose Dixon. They'd chosen Nadia because it meant hope. Rose because of the Cherokee Rose and the significance it played in their relationship, what it symbolized for them. For Carol's first daughter she never got to meet, but would always remember and long for.

His son had followed four minutes later. A son who he'd started making plans for the moment he found out he was a boy. A son he would take hunting and fishing, who he'd teach how to track. Who he'd teach to respect and cherish women, starting with his mother and sister. Weighing 5 lbs. and 1 ounce and measuring at 19 inches long, he looked bald headed upon initial inspection, but upon further investigation, you could see that he was sporting a small amount of blond hair on top of that round head of his.

For a terrifying second, Daryl had thought his world was about to shatter when that baby boy didn't come out screaming and crying like his sister had. He remembered frantically asking the doctor what was wrong, if his little boy was okay. He could still hear Carol's previously elated voice crack and shatter as she clutched Daryl's hand tightly in hers and screamed the same thing. But a nurse gently stroked the baby's feet and pinched his toes and he emitted a swift squeal that put his sister's earlier one to shame.

Neither Daryl or Carol had ever felt such relief in their life as they did hearing that spine tingling cry.

They'd named their little boy Dylan. Dylan Shane Dixon. Originally, they'd been looking for boy names that went along with the theme of hope. Carol had come across some site on the web that claimed Dylan meant a ray of hope. But later, she found a lot more sites that said it meant son of the wave or born near the sea. In the end, they'd decided to stick with the name, having grown fond of the way it sounded. Besides, they'd ridden a hell of a wave in their quest to have children. His middle name was a bit more complicated in origin. You see, he was named after the man who'd saved Carol's life all those years ago.

Shane Walsh. The guy who lived in the apartment next to Carol's and had come home from work that night and heard her screams. That man who'd rushed in to save her. He'd been a rookie cop back then, turning in from his night time shift and being more than ready to crawl into his bed. The man didn't hesitate to rush into action when he heard the disturbance the next door over.

Daryl later learned more about the incident than Carol originally offered that night in the diner. How Shane broke down the door and saw what was going on, how he pulled his gun from it's holster and told Ed to stop, to step away from her, but the man was in such a drunken rage he either hadn't heard him or willingly decided he wasn't going to stop until he killed her. And Shane had done what he had to do, he'd done what he felt was necessary to save Carol's life. To try and save her baby's life.

A thorough investigation had been conducted and he hadn't served time. No one doubted his intentions or motives after Carol's hospital records and crime scene photos had been released. Not after interviewing her and finding out the hell she'd been living. Not after they learned that monster took her baby from her.

Shane still came to visit Carol from time to time. Usually once a year around Christmas. He'd long since moved, but he always kept in touch with her. Making sure she was alright, that her life was okay.

Daryl remembered the first time he'd met him. He'd never had such an urge to hug a strange man before. But that wasn't just any man. It was the man who saved the life of the woman he loved. And if it wasn't for him, Daryl wouldn't have Carol. They wouldn't have the life that they did together. They wouldn't have ever gotten the chance to make these two beautiful, perfect babies.

They'd both felt like they should honor Shane in some way and chose to do so by giving their son his name as a middle name.

()()()

"What are you thinking about?" Carol asked, breaking Daryl away from his deep thoughts. She was laying in the hospital bed, holding their son, while he was on the couch, one she assumed would pull out into a bed, their daughter was lying on his chest. He'd been staring off at the wall the last few minutes now, the tip of his finger gently stroking over their baby girl's back.

He craned his neck so he could meet her eyes and he shrugged a shoulder. "Just thinking about how lucky we are."

She smiled down at her sleeping son. The babies had been premature, being born at 35 weeks and 2 days, instead of 40. But that was normal for twins, or so they'd been told. She felt blessed because despite being a bit on the scrawny side, both babies were healthy overall. She'd had a relatively easy pregnancy and things had gone smoothly for her.

There'd been an episode with Braxton Hick's along the 7 month mark, one that sent both her and Daryl into a terrified panic that led them to Denise's door late one night, but in the end, that hadn't been anything to worry about. Just a normal occurrence.

Daryl was right, they were lucky. Luckier than some people. She knew there were other couples with the same struggle they had that wouldn't ever see their hopes and dreams fulfilled the same way they had. And her heart ached for those couples, just as it ached for every other mother who'd lost a baby or had their child taken from them.

She didn't understand why life worked the way it did. Why bad things happened to good people. Why men like her first husband existed. Why people who longed for children couldn't have them, meanwhile people who didn't want children or treated their children horribly could seem to get pregnant at the drop of a hat. She may never understand why she'd had to face the struggle she did before she met Daryl. Why they'd have to go through everything they did to get these two blessings that she loved more than life itself.

But she knew one thing.

She was so glad she hadn't given up when she'd reached rock bottom. She was thankful to Shane for doing what he had to do to make sure she lived. To Andrea and Michonne, for never giving up on her and for pushing her to see that she still had so much to live for. For Michonne, making her see how important it was to never give up and always have hope, even when it seemed that there's nothing left in the world for her to have that hope for.

That hope led her to Daryl, led her to her two wonderful babies.

Carol rocked baby Dylan in her arms and looked to Daryl, still smiling. "We are pretty lucky," she slid herself over in the bed, wincing slightly from the pain she still felt after giving birth not many hours ago. "Sit with me? With us?"

Daryl obliged her request, clutching his baby girl securely against his chest as he tentatively made his way to the small hospital bed and climbed in beside his wife. He leaned over and kissed her forehead and she rested her head on his shoulder.

Carol hummed to herself, her eyes landing on their daughter. "And to think, you wanted two boys."

Daryl's large hand ran up over the top of Nadia's small head, brushing through the head full of soft auburn hair. He snorted, "Ain't that I didn't want a little girl. I didn't care, really. Just wanted them both to be healthy and happy. I just know I'm prolly gonna end up in prison one day over her."

Carol chuckled at him. "Oh, no you won't. You'll teach her to be the toughest little girl around. She'll know how to work a gun and a crossbow by the time she's three. All the boys are gonna be terrified of her."

"Yeah, she's gonna be tough alright. But that's not gonna be on account of me. She'll get all that strength from you. Want her to be just like ya."

Carol smiled and her hand ghosted over their son's much tinier one. "And I hope he's just like you. Strong, but tender. Tough, but kind. Fierce and protective. Loyal. He'll be a fine man someday if he's anything like you."

Daryl didn't know about all that, just like he knew Carol didn't realize the full extent and beauty of her own strength, but those qualities she just named, they're something he wanted to see in his son. Things he knew made a good man, and that he knew his wife saw in him, even when he didn't see it in himself. "I still can't believe they're finally here," he murmured, glancing between his two children. "Crazy how they were still bouncing around inside of ya not even a 24 hours ago."

"Isn't it, though? Do you feel any different?"

"Yeah, I do," he confessed. "Feel like I'm holding a piece of my own heart in my hands. Feel like the other two pieces are right next to me. And I ain't never been happier."

"Yeah, me too." she agreed. Feeling exactly the same way. Dylan whimpered in her arms a bit, scrunching his wrinkly little face up and making a very Daryl-like pout with his little lips. Carol's heart fluttered beneath her chest and she shifted into a more comfortable position to try and appease him. It must've worked, because he quieted down and his pouty scowl disappeared.

"We did good, huh?" Daryl commented, a proud look washing over him as looked over his little family, all piled up in that little hospital bed.

"So good," she replied, eyes beaming and feeling her own sense of pride flooding through her at what they'd accomplished together.

 **Thank you guys for reading this. I hope it was enjoyable. I know it was a heavy story at first and it dealt with some sensitive topics. I hope the ending made up for that.**

 **In the future, after I post the final chapter on My Best Friend's Sister (which will likely be next week), I may come back to this story and do a few future snippets as them as parents to these two. Not a detailed story, just little blurbs along the way. I haven't made up my mind about that yet, though.**


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